


Let Me Follow You Down

by the_irish_mayhem



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_irish_mayhem/pseuds/the_irish_mayhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane is sick of her family always pushing her towards a relationship. She thinks she's figured out the perfect solution. Fake Dating AU.</p><p>"I kind of have this crazy plan to get my family off my back about the whole 'being single' thing."<br/>She didn't think Thor could look more interested until she said that. "I must hear this plan."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The “I slipped on the ice after coming out of the gym but I am too sore to get myself off the ground so I need your help” AU that also managed to morph into the “Fake Dating” AU.
> 
> Another AU that nobody asked for but I definitely DEFINITELY need to write. Also got a wee bit lengthier than I had originally intended. By a wee bit I mean two pretty large parts. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Whelp.
> 
> Now with [graphics](http://the-irish-mayhem.tumblr.com/post/135490788901/let-me-follow-you-down-aka-the-fosterson)! :D

_Yes I'll do anything in this godalmighty world_  
_If you just let me come home with you._  
_-"Baby, Let Me Follow You Down," Bob Dylan_

Jane had always made a point to keep herself relatively fit. In her college years, she'd been able to flit her way through without gaining the dreaded freshman fifteen; she'd avoided the post-graduation paunch, and the pre-reunion pudge.

Point is, she'd always maintained a svelte figure with regular yoga, short swims, and the smallest possible amount of jogging intermixed with walking.

But as her twenties yawned into her thirties, the consequences of a sedentary profession began to set it.

Not that she sat behind a desk all day, but despite hopping around rural New Mexico gathering data from her stations and being a more active thinker (as in pacing around her lab like a caged zoo animal rather than sitting and thinking quietly), she certainly wasn't the most active person.

At first she hadn't really noticed much of a difference. Her boobs were a tiny bit bigger (which she got psyched about, and immediately purchased two, new, expensive Victoria's Secret bras), her hips were a bit fuller, giving her a definitely more feminine shape.

Most people wouldn't be pumped about a gain in weight (and Jane was definitely NOT okay with the cellulite she was noticing on her thighs and stomach) but, she figured if she had to gain some, might as well have it be in the good spots.

She'd never qualify as curvy, but for someone who for most of her life was called "scrawny" and "frumpy" and "you literally go from rib to hip bone with no gap between" it wasn't necessarily a bad change. (She could ignore the way her jeans started to either not button or dig painfully into the newfound bulge of her waist and belly, prompting her to get new ones.)

And then.

 _And then_  she made the mistake of going home.

The Fosters lived in a smallish town (they had a downtown district that included a Subway, a Walmart, a tiny two screen movie theater, and a Dairy Queen) in Iowa, and Jane normally went back for the major holidays.

Being the genius who got into Mensa at age fourteen had made her a minor celebrity among the town of just over one thousand, so whenever her mother called, she'd say without fail, "Everyone is wondering what you're up to!"

Which was precisely why she  _should've_  said no when her mother mentioned the town-wide Labor Day picnic they were hosting this year.

But, like an idiot, Jane mentioned that she had a few days of time off she could spare. Mom jumped on that like a starved dog on a steak, and before Jane really knew what she was agreeing to, she was headed to Iowa for the Labor Day weekend instead of lounging in her very nice apartment watching old movies and working on her research.

Things started off with a bang when her mom said to her when she picked up Jane at the airport, "Well, don't you look all well-fed! It's good to see that, honey, I was afraid you were never going to find someone. What's his name?"

In a one-two punch, Mrs. Foster had managed to extinguish any enthusiasm Jane might've been able to conjure for the weekend. (Also, how on earth did a  _tiny bit_  of weight gain somehow signal she was in a relationship?) "I don't 'have someone,' Mom. That is a choice, and you know that. I just hired a really great intern who makes sure I take breaks to eat. Her name is Darcy."

Herding her daughter and her single bag into the car, Mrs. Foster countered, "Honey, you can't let what happened with Don stop you from getting yourself out there."

Jane sighed. "I'm on the verge of discovering something extraordinary. The Nobel Society is looking very closely at me and my work, so I just don't have the time to pursue anything with anyone, okay?" She stared through the windshield as they made their way through the airport traffic to the highway. "And gaining some weight doesn't automatically mean I'm in a relationship," she grumbled.

"Of course not," her mother was fast to reply, "You are a beautiful woman, no matter what." There seemed to be no hesitation on her part as she followed that with, "And you know we couldn't be more proud of you, but... Your father and I are just getting a little concerned about you is all."

"Mom," Jane said warningly.

"We both want grandkids!" Mom blurted loudly, "And you don't seem to be making any effort--"

"--Not this again--"

"--to find a good husband and settle down. You're not getting any younger, Jane--"

"-- _Please_  stop talking--"

"--and it's always best to find a good man when you're young and have a rockin' body, you know? When I met your father, he was certainly impressed by--"

"JESUS CHRIST, ABORT THAT THOUGHT  _RIGHT_  NOW."

Mom was quick to say, "Don't take the name of the Lord in vain, sweetie."

Oh god. This was going to be a fun weekend.

. . . .

The picnic was no better. For some reason, her groundbreaking work was a tired subject. Practically old news that no one wanted to talk about. There was one thing, however, that they did want to talk about.

"Still no one?"

"No, but it's--"

"Oh, you'll find someone. Just give it time."

Nearly all her high school friends were married (to all her other high school friends. The glory of small town living) with children, and they all had the same song and dance for her.

"So, Jane-ius," they said, using her old high school nickname, "where's the husband, hm? Haven't found a guy who can calculate the square root of pi in his head yet?"

"Still single. Not at all torn up about it, I assure you."

"Mm, that's what we all said. You'll find the nerd for you, Foster. Someday."

No one made a comment about her weight until her Aunt Stefania decided to fix that.

"So, Janie, I see you've finally caught up."

"On?"

"Looking like other women your age. I was beginning to worry that you were going to stay a twig forever."

"I--I'm not--it's not that much," Jane replied in moderate confusion.

Stefania shrugged, "That's how it all starts. One day you're drinking liquor and eating whatever you want and the next--BOOM, you're fifty pounds overweight and you can only drink wine and you're married to your uncle Horace."

"What?"

"Well, not actually your uncle Horace, but you catch my drift. You look nice dear, but watch yourself. So how's the husband hunt coming?"

She got on the plane on Sunday planning on taking approximately 0% of what anyone actually said to heart.

. . . .

Until her doctor actually said she should be taking something to heart.

"Your cholesterol isn't terribly high yet, but it's better to address it before it becomes a problem. I'd recommend joining a gym."

Which was how she wound up signing on to start in October at a very nice gym in downtown Albuquerque and it was not long after that that she met him.

. . . .

But before she met him, she met Sif.

First of all, if Jane didn't know what a Viking warrior goddess was like before, she sure felt like she knew what one was like now. Sif was tall, could out-lift 90% of the men at the gym, and was supermodel gorgeous.

Jane felt like a literal flap of human skin next to her.

However, Sif really was a great trainer. Incredibly encouraging, never letting Jane get down on herself, but knowing exactly when to push and be inflexible.

The evidence of her great skill at training came after Jane was walking out to her car on unsteady legs after Day Three of Sif Boot Camp.

 _Of course_  this had to be the time when it started snowing in New Mexico in October. Of course.

The parking lot was already slick with snowfall, two inches and counting. Being from the Midwest, Jane had no problems with copious amounts of snowfall. In fact, she probably would've laughed at the mere two inches and then tried to skid herself across the parking lot to her car. That is, of course, if she could manage to operate her legs.

Everything felt tight and terrible, and her most recent workout had led her muscles to be completely fatigued. Her shaking hamstrings wanted to kill her, and her trembling quads seemed to be trying vehemently to tear themselves out of her legs. Her calves were no better, nor were her glutes as they shivered in their attempt to keep her upright. God, walking was enough of a task. Her entire body, abs and arms included, just wanted to neither move nor cooperate without screaming amounts of pain. She didn't quite have a game plan for how she was going to manage to sit down in her driver's seat just yet, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

She was tottering across the snowy asphalt, the bottoms of her boots barely finding traction on the heavy, wet snow when--

"Shit!"

\--her feet were slipping out from beneath her and she was falling backwards, hitting the ground with a pained wheeze.

She'd thankfully avoided smacking her head against the ground, so at least she had that going for her.

Until she realized she couldn't get up.

"Mother fffuuuggghhhhhhh," she groaned as she tried to command her abs to pull her torso upwards. Considering that it felt like a minor stabbing five seconds before she even considered laughing, asking them to perform this monumental service was basically asking a random person on the street to generously bequeath you a million dollars.

So there she was, flailing about on the ground like a fucking flipped over turtle in a fleece jacket, sweatpants, and her gym bag slung around her like a weight that was trying vehemently (and succeeding) to pull her to the ground.

Maybe she could manage rolling to her car?

She dearly hoped that no one was in the parking lot because she was not going to get crushed by a driver not paying close enough attention, also, this was absolutely mortifying and she needed for no one to ever know that this had happened.

So, of course, she had to get seen by someone as she tried to maneuver herself onto her stomach.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She flopped onto her stomach with a pained huff in time to look up to see, shit, a really handsome stranger hustling over to where she had fallen. Not even like average guy handsome, we're talking  _action hero romance novel cover movie star_  handsome.

"I'm completely fine," she huffed as he finally reached where she was stranded. "And I am going to get up momentarily, I just need to get... get my body to cooperate," she finished after an unsuccessful attempt at doing just that.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, sounding legitimately worried that he may have to call an ambulance. Not a completely ridiculous assumption, as he'd definitely watched her try and fail to stand at least once.

She nodded, chin nearly scraping the asphalt as she did so, "Yeah, I just, uh, I'm a bit sore."

She watched the worry melt away, a smile blooming across his face. A laugh boomed from his chest, and she felt equal parts mortified and humorous. Turns out this man's mood was somewhat infectious.

"Ah, we have all been there. Here, let me help you--"

"Hold on," Jane said, attempting to wave him off with her hand but only succeeding in lifting her fingers from the ground. "I need to try one more time. Mind over matter." As much as she hated the thought of struggling with such a simple task in front of such a good-looking guy, she wouldn't sacrifice her pride for her vanity.

He backed off a bit, but remained on one knee next to her. "I'll make sure to divert any traffic around your valiant effort."

"Shit, there aren't any cars around, are there? I was kinda hoping to keep this whole incident a secret between me and this asphalt."

"No, it is just us," he replied.

Okay. Okay, she could do this. She'd made it into Mensa, she should be able to lift herself off the ground. She found herself chanting in her head,  _MITOCHONDRIA. THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL._

Alas, her arms quivered and gave out before she could fully get into a kneeling position.

Fully prepared to face-plant, Jane was surprised by the set of arms that caught her. She darted another look at her rescuer. He was smiling again, "Mitochondria?" he asked.

Okay, maybe not as in her head as she thought. "The powerhouse of the cell," she defended.

"Are all your self-motivators science based?" he asked as he helped-- _lifted_ \-- her to her feet.

She had her feet back on solid ground, her legs not happy about the development. "Mostly. Sif yelling at me though is usually pretty useful too," she added, wondering if he knew her.

He chuckled. "I take it you're going through her boot camp?" Jane nodded. "Let me guess, day... four?"

"Three."

He winced in sympathy. "A fitness enthusiast I may be, but I wouldn't want to go through Sif's training camp. Not again."

"Again?"

He nodded. "Every new trainer has to make it past her inspection. Which means six days of hell before you're actually hired."

"So you're a trainer here."

"Yep. Thor Odinson, at your service."

"Yeah, no kidding. Things were about to get really embarrassing if I hadn't been able to get up. I was wondering if I might have to call the fire department. I'm Jane," she tacked on, almost an afterthought, "Jane Foster."

"It's lovely to make your acquaintance, Jane," he said with a grossly handsome smile and now Jane was definitely regretting choosing pride over vanity.

"And--And you... as well?" There was a reason she never took any english courses in school.

He didn't seem to find her lack of poise off-putting, smiling at her again. "Well, I must be off. I have an angry crossfitter to train." He paused, uncertain for a moment before he said, "Perhaps I'll see you around?"

 _Jane, no. You are not ruled by your vagina. Remember what happened with Don? Do not reply. You should just turn and walk away._  Instead, she said, "If I manage to get out of bed tomorrow."

He laughed at that, and Jane was tempted to laugh along with him until the minor stabbing in her abs started again. She only got out a strangled chuckle. "Eat lots of bananas," he told her upon noticing her obvious discomfort, "Stay hydrated, and be sure to get in a bit more than your daily amount of protein."

"I'll do that," she replied.  _Jane, stop smiling at him. Stop it. This probably qualifies as flirting. You don't flirt._  "Okay. I'll see you around."

He headed for the gym moments later, shooting her a wink as he walked through the glass doors of the club.

She was in  _so much_  trouble.

. . . .

The soreness eventually faded, replaced by lean muscle as October faded into November. Her boobs shrank again (bye bye pretty Victoria's Secret bras,) but thanks to the working out, she managed to retain a decent amount of her shapely curves. Her butt was definitely much improved from all the squats, and her outer thighs still retained a bit of that feminine swell she'd become fond of. She'd taken weight off really fast the first few weeks, which Sif told her was completely normal, but she'd hit a plateau at the end of October, and she still had a few stubborn spots she wanted gone.

She felt great, like she had huge amounts of energy and could work for hours on end without a break. She missed the boobs, but she'd been getting a lot of compliments from friends and co-workers who said that she looked really in shape.

She'd even been asked out a couple of times. She turned them all down of course. Because of what happened with Don. Obviously. That was the only reason.

Thor was a popular trainer, and thusly she saw him around the gym nearly every single time she was there.

Once she nearly dropped a dumbbell on her face because she made the mistake of turning her head while he was spotting someone's squat. (The way that his ass looked in those shorts as he helped his client stand and rerack the bar... Lord help her.)

Sif had only poked her arm with a good-natured smile on her face. "Eyes on a different prize, Foster."

And always, seemingly after every workout, he managed to catch her before she left. Regardless of whether or not she had just seen him with a client minutes before, he seemed to always have some excuse to be loitering around the front desk by the entryway so that he could talk to her before she left.

They seemed to talk about nothing and everything. Movies, food, their workouts. It was nothing substantial or life changing, but she'd always leave with a giant smile on her face and butterflies in her stomach.

. . . .

Jane loved her mother, obviously, but  _sometimes_ , Mom could just find Jane's  _exact damn buttons_  and push them all.

She'd called about Thanksgiving, and after settling Jane's travel plans, asked,  _"So, sweetpea, how's the life in the big city? Is your work going well?"_

Jane smiled, liking when she could talk to her mom about this kind of thing. "It's great. My research is going really well, I'm on the fast-track for the Nobel... It's just great."

_"I'm so happy for you. Are you getting out much? Meeting any new people?"_

Jane's good mood began to fade fast. "Just with friends from time to time. I'm very busy with work," she said, giving her standard answer.

_"Anyone special coming around?"_

God, she was so damn sick of everyone in her family making her feel like less of a person because she didn't have a romantic partner. Was it really so hard to believe that she didn't need someone to be fulfilled? She was on the brink of joining the Nobel Society, a coveted position that so few people could claim. Her life felt complete, she was happy, happier than she's ever been, and god, she didn't want to keep defending that for everyone. Her happiness didn't need witnesses.

So she lied. "I guess I kinda met this guy back in October, and we've... been out a couple of times."

Jane didn't think she could've made her mother more happy had she announced that she was pregnant or getting married.  _"Jane! Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you! What's his name? Where's he from? Tell me everything!"_

"There's not really much to tell. It's not really anything serious."

_"Well, you never know, dear. What's his name?"_

She didn't hesitate when she answered, "Thor."

 _"Oh my. How exotic,"_  her mother said, sounding smitten with Jane's imaginary boyfriend.  _"Where is he from?"_

Shit. Shit, she had no clue. Did she just make something up? No, she couldn't do that. He was a real person, and for some reason, it felt so, so wrong to her to misrepresent him. Thankfully, one of her station alerts pinged, grabbing her attention.  _"_ Sorry Mom, I gotta go. We'll talk more at Thanksgiving, okay? Love you."

She hung up before her Mom could rope her into spilling more info.

. . . .

She made the mistake of mentioning him to Darcy (minus the fake context she'd given her mom.)

"Oh my god, you like him."

"What? No, he's just... he's very nice, and charming. We're friends."

"Okay, but you always come back to the lab from the gym looking like you just won the New Mexico State Lotto. Considering how  _most_  people look when they come back from the gym I seriously doubt he's 'just a friend.'"

"Seriously, Darcy, I don't have time in my life for a relationship. You know how busy I am," Jane responded, dumping her bag full of her gym clothes beneath her desk.

"Yet you still find time to go to that gym for at least an hour every day. How many times do you actually have a scheduled appointment with your trainer?"

"Three times a week." Darcy looked like she'd just proven a point, so Jane immediately defended, "Hey, I'm trying to be proactive about my fitness. They say that the best way to stay fit is to develop the habit--"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. You just wanna look at the Norse God."

"I do  _not_."

Darcy just shot a knowing look in her direction. "Uh-huh. Listen, your Station 11 data tabulation finished a couple minutes ago. Might want to look at it."

Dropping the subject of Thor because they seriously were just friends, she went to look at the data.

. . . .

That night, she was at home indulging in a cheap bottle of red wine.

A glass past where she should've put the bottle away, she came up with an absolutely insane plan that Tipsy Jane decided to implement as soon as possible.

. . . .

"Any plans for Thanksgiving?" Jane asked Thor the next day.

He was wearing a ridiculously attractive royal blue, long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that looked a size too small for his chest and arms, and she was reminded again of his sheer size.

He shrugged, "I've a couple of mates who I'll probably see. I'm not big on the holiday. I'll probably end up sitting on my couch watching  _Friends_  reruns."

Jane figured he wouldn't be much of a Thanksgiving type of guy; she still couldn't place his accent, and she hadn't been able to ask him yet where he was from. "Doesn't sound like a bad option. My family's a bit nuts, so it's always a production to have to go see them," she shared.

"A production?" he asked, amused, "How so?"

Okay, crap, she shouldn't have even brought up her family who wanted her to find a suitable mate and procreate as soon as possible. "They're just very... disappointed that I haven't gotten married and started popping out kids, I suppose."

"Ah," he replied. "My mum would ask me that all the time. I started making up girlfriends just so that she would get off my back about it."

Jane immediately took note of the past tense, but chose to not comment on it. "I'm guilty of that too." She paused, contemplating the next phase of her plan to fool her parents.  _We're friends. Just friends. And friends can ask stuff like this, right?_  When she thought about her mother's rabid fascination with her love life as opposed to her being up for the Nobel, her resolve strengthened (just enough). "Listen, I might have a favor to ask you about that."

Thor looked delighted and intrigued. Good so far. "Oh?"

Her nerve was starting to give way, so she asked quickly, "I need your number." She felt the blood rush into her cheeks, the flush spreading down her neck. Oh god, this had been a  _bad idea_. Tipsy Jane's ideas weren't always the best. She should never have even contemplated this, god, she shouldn't have told her mom about a fake boyfriend that was actually a real person, oh  _god_ \--

She finally got ahold of herself when she saw Thor's grin turn into something very sweet, and shit, he was definitely going to flirt with her, and she had just asked for his number-- "And what, pray tell, does the lady  _need_  with my phone number?"

Jane was bad enough at lying as it was, and the house of cards she was constructing for her family was bad enough for her to manage without adding lying to Thor to the list.

"I kind of have this crazy plan to get my family off my back about the whole 'being single' thing."

She didn't think Thor could look more interested until she said that. "I must hear this plan."

. . . .

Which was how they ended up in a coffee shop a few blocks from the club. (The benefits of being self-employed, Jane thought smugly. She could go and get coffee with her handsome friend at two on a Wednesday afternoon.)

"...so I figure if I call you or something over the course of the day, then they'll  _have_  to believe me. I'll be all head over heels and then I'll imaginary break up with you at some point, and I'll be absolutely heartbroken, far too heartbroken to pursue another relationship for a while, and they'll be off my back about it for another year or so. I might be able to stretch it out more if I need to." (She remembers her heartbreak after Don. It shouldn't be too hard to conjure up those feelings again.)

Thor sipped his drink before responding, "You are positively diabolical." He leaned back in his chair, which made Jane realize their faces had been getting awfully close over the small table and she mirrored his actions. "I'd be honored to help you." She was about to thank him when he said, "But, I have a few suggestions for this plan."

"Such as?"

He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. "If you're supposedly so head over heels in love with me," he punctuated that with a suggestive eyebrow raise. She was tempted to punch his arm. "Then wouldn't your parents need to meet me at some point? Imagine how much more realistic your heartbreak would seem if they'd met me, because clearly I'd be an excellent son-in-law."

"Don't be so modest," she joked, but in her head, she realized that he was right. "Only problem with that is that my family lives in Iowa and I only ever see them on holidays. I'm not going to just take a plane up with my boyfriend just because. They'll get suspicious."

"Or be very pleasantly surprised," he pointed out. "What better way to show them how serious you are about this man in your life?"

"I don't know..."

"Or, you could bring me for the holidays."

"What?"

"I could come with you when you see your family at Christmas." He hesitated. "Unless I'm overstepping my bounds--"

"Oh, no, you're fine. Absolutely, that's a great idea I just... Don't you want to see your family?"

For the first time that afternoon, his jovial look fell. "My family situation is... complex. I don't-- I'm sorry, I don't want to dump that on you."

Without thinking, she reached over a placed a comforting hand on his. "Hey, if we're going to be in a serious fake relationship, we need to be more open with each other."

That brought a smile to his face, which did funny things to Jane's heart. She was treading dangerous ground when she realized she would do just about anything to put that grin on his face. "Really, Jane, it's a mess, and I don't want to burden you with that. If your family asks, we can just make something up. I'll go with it."

Jane squeezed his hand, finally becoming aware that she'd put it there and deciding to steer into the skid. "Maybe I just want to know because you're my friend and I care about you. If you don't want to tell my family, that's okay, but... I would like to get to know you. Aside from your preferences in burgers and movies and that Chandler Bing is your spirit animal," she added, still hoping for that smile. She got a brief one that was hardly enough to sate her craving.

He sighed. "To make a long and complicated story short, my mother was killed, my father disowned me and kicked me out of our house, and my little brother was shipped off to a mental health facility, where my father just keeps him stowed away. I don't even have visitation rights. I practically raised him because my father was always away, and my mother was busy running our family business, and now I haven't seen him in almost eight years."

Everything that came to mind to say seemed so inadequate, but she couldn't just say nothing. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. As an only child, Jane couldn't quite grasp the depth of the pain he must be feeling for his brother, but she could see his anguish written plain on his face as clearly as she could read the stars in the sky.

"It was a long time ago," he said, sounding a bit lost in thought. His hand turned beneath her grasp, their fingers threading. He pulled his gaze back to hers, obviously making an effort to forget. "Trust me, Jane, a holiday with your family as opposed to sitting by myself with  _A Christmas Story_  on a loop sounds like the best way I could spend my time."

"Okay," Jane agreed.

There was a slight pause before he asked, "I would appreciate it very much if we didn't talk about my family anymore."

"I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It is all right. It shouldn't be so hard for me to talk about."

"You are well within your rights to be upset," Jane told him. "Maybe we should switch topics, though. Like I said, if we're going to be in a serious fake relationship, we should probably know more things about each other."

That brought a smile back to his face, and despite it being dimmed, it made Jane's heart do wild things. She withdrew her hand from his, the mutual parting leaving her feeling cold and bereft of his contact.

If she hadn't been in trouble before, she certainly was now.

. . . .

At 6:30 AM on the morning of her flight to Iowa, her iPhone vibrated, signaling a text message. Anticipating an overly excited message from her mom, she was pleasantly surprised to see Thor's name popping up on her screen.

**_How are you this morning, dear?_ **

Suddenly, her wait in the security line didn't seem so bad.

 ** _Hoping you'll be able to get by without me_**  she replied.

The small bubble that told her he was typing flashed, and she watched the dots with an eagerness that in the back of her mind she knew she really shouldn't be.

"Ma'am, can you move forward?" the TSA agent prompted.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, stealing another look at her screen as she handed over her ticket and driver's license for the agent's perusal.

**_I've done well so far. I'll miss you at the club today, though. Sif said to watch the carbos. :P_ **

She snorted loudly, and covered her mouth in embarrassment as she collected her stamped ticket from the agent. "Th-thanks."

She didn't have much on her, merely a few changes of clothes, her laptop, and a book in her bag, and she placed her small carry-on and her shoes in the gray bin to go through the x-ray. Before she placed her phone, she quickly typed out,  ** _It's Thanksgiving. There is absolutely no way I'm watching the carbos._**

She got through the x-ray, eagerly awaiting her bin to come through. Jane nabbed her phone right away, sliding her feet into her shoes.

**_I cannot say I blame you. Though I'm a Briton, I can certainly appreciate the novelty of jamming yourself full of food to celebrate whatever it is American Thanksgiving celebrates._ **

Making her way over to her terminal, Jane sat herself down and prepared to wait for her flight to board. She'd been planning on getting some work done on her laptop, but she merely set the bag down by her feet untouched and continued her conversation with Thor.

 ** _It's a hypocritical holiday considering the actual historical context of the event, but I've decided to not be cynical about it. I like the food, and I do actually love my family. I have a lot to be thankful for, dearest boyfriend of mine._**  She stared at that last sentence for a full ten seconds before she hit send. She immediately regretted it, but rationalized that he had sort of started it (I mean, c'mon, he called her dear. That was unbelievably cute.)

Her heart soared in a way she didn't want to examine when he replied back with,  ** _I do too, dearest girlfriend of mine._**

They texted back and forth for the full forty-five minutes before the voice came over the intercom calling for passengers to line up with their boarding passes. ( ** _Why are you up this early anyway? Not that I'm complaining ;)_**

**_So I could keep my fake girlfriend company while she waited for her flight._ **

**_You're lying._ **

**_I am dead serious._ **

**_We're not even in a real relationship_ **

**_I had to get up anyway to work out. :) This just conveniently coincided with that._** )

She boarded without a problem, settling into her seat in the sparsely populated plane.

**_Just boarded. I'll probably have to lose you soon._ **

**_:( Woe is me._ **

**_Drama queen :P_ **

She almost wished they could stay on the tarmac a bit longer, but of course, this was the one flight that took off practically ten minutes after she boarded.

As they began to line up on the runway, Jane shot him one last text.  ** _Airplane mode is going on. I'll text you when I land._**

She flipped on airplane mode, but something made her not click out of her messages right away. That last message has probably been sent to thousands of significant others across the world. The domesticity of it does something to her heart that she keeps telling herself she is going a good job at ignoring.

She scrolls back through their conversation, realizing that she couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed a text conversation so much.

(She puts her phone away as the plane picks up speed, telling herself that it was fine.

They were friends, after all.

She'd started to text Darcy more, after realizing that their rapport was far too enjoyable to be merely boss/employee.

It was good she'd built a similar rapport with Thor. It'd be easier to convince her family that they were, in fact, dating.

It was fine.)

. . . .

As soon as the captain gave the all clear, she turned off airplane mode, and sent Thor  ** _Made it in one piece._**

She only had to wait a few minutes for his reply.

**_Now I can rest easy._ **

. . . .

Thanksgiving happened, and Jane's plan was working.

She had a decent sized family, but usually her Dad's side couldn't make it all the way from Norway for a holiday they didn't really celebrate.

But her Mom's side was a vivacious bunch of Israeli/Italians, so holidays were certainly never boring. (She had five aunts and seven uncles, a multitude of cousins, plus her grandma).

And Mom's excitement about this new man in Jane's life must have gotten around. Her mom was a gossip hound, Jane knew that, but jeez, she'd tried to play it off like it wasn't serious. Maybe she'd sounded more smitten over the phone than she'd realized.

Her relatives were all asking about him, and she was now able to share in good(ish) conscience that yes, she was dating, and his name was Thor.

She traded texts with him throughout the day, and she realized that yeah, this is exactly what a couple would do if they were away from each other. They'd miss each other.

Her Dad was the first to notice ("Gosh, Jane, you've been nose deep in that phone all day. This Thor must be something else.") but then it was a domino effect. ("When are we gonna meet this guy?" --Uncle Horace "Is he cute?" --Cousin Kelly "What's his name again?" --Grandma Anat)

After dinner was cleared, the pie passed out, Jane found a quiet moment to herself in the sitting room. Picking away at her French Silk, she heard someone enter the room, distracting her from whatever probably charming/arrogant as hell thing Thor had just sent her. “And just how did you manage to get away from the family?”

"Steve!" she crowed in delight, hopping up and setting aside her pie and phone in order to give her cousin a huge hug. "When did you get here?"

"Our flight landed about an hour ago. Disappointed we missed dinner, but with the leftovers Aunt Mira packed us, I'll still be able to gain at least a few pounds."

"I'm surprised everyone let you out of their sight."

"I had to get away and come find my favorite cousin," he said fondly.

Jane had been an only child, but if she had to pick anyone in the world to be her brother, it would be Steve. How her frank, rude Aunt Stefania and her quiet, lazy Uncle Horace had produced him, she would never understand.

They'd spent a lot of their childhoods together, and Jane was struck with guilt at how bad she'd been at keeping touch recently.

She looked behind him. "Is Peggy here?"

He grinned broadly at the mention of his wife of almost a year. "Yeah, she's distracting the family for me."

After college, Steve had enlisted in the Marines. He was stationed overseas in Europe when he met Peggy Carter, an MI6 agent and military liaison. They married not longer after Steve left the service, and Jane had never seen him so happy.

"Bless that capable woman."

"No kidding. So," he said, "I hear there is finally a significant other in the life of Jane Foster."

She groaned. "Steve, you're pretty much the only one in the family who doesn't obsessively ask about my love life."

"Because you don't have one," he said cheekily.

"It's a choice!"

"So there's no guy named Thor who everyone is wild about meeting and your teenaged cousins are officially swooning over on Facebook?"

Steve was a great person, and unofficially dubbed Jane's favorite relative, so she didn't know if she could lie to him about this. "There's... something."

"Something?"

"We're just... we're really hitting it off." She didn't want to blow her cover, but she still felt bad lying to Steve. She could just dance around the subject until they could talk about something else.

"Is that right? I seem to recall you hitting it off great with Don, too."

Jane rolled her eyes, sitting down and picking up her pie again. "I was just so desperate for the kind of relationship I thought I wanted to have," she explained as Steve sat down next to her. "I kept convincing myself that we were the perfect couple, because on paper, he was the perfect guy. You know how much my parents loved him. I just had myself fooled into thinking that I loved him too."

"It's not like that with this Thor?"

She'd had a spiel memorized with what she was going to say about him. "He's a really great man," she said, and then she went off script. "He's incredibly gentlemanly, he's British, he's stubborn and arrogant and charming, and he's actually a huge nerd about certain things." She heard her phone buzzing again, and she couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "He's sweet. Thoughtful. He's just... he's good, Steve. I don't think you'll ever have to worry about being the intimidating older brother type with him."

Steve was quiet for a few seconds, studying her face before he said, "Well, good, because I saw that guy's Facebook pictures and I think he might be bigger than me."

Jane gave him a once over. "He's definitely bigger than you."

Steve punched her shoulder. "Jerk."

. . . .

She arrived back in Albuquerque after a successful Thanksgiving. Her entire family was already slobbering in their eagerness to meet "Jane's new man."

They met up the day after she got back at what she'd started to think of as "their" coffee shop.

"They loved you," she said as soon as he sat down.

He pumped his fist in the air. "Knew it. They'll be planning a wedding before they even meet me."

She rolled her eyes. "Easy there, tiger. We still need to learn a bit more about each other. We've got about a month--"

"Jane."

"--to learn enough information if we want to make it convincing--"

" _Jane_."

"What?"

"Relax a bit," he said, "No need to force knowledge at each other. Let's just do this organically."

"You don't even know what I do for a living yet."

"Do to! You're... some sort of scientist. I know you're brilliant and like to use mitochondria and sonic pulsars as motivation when you're doing cardio."

She had to suppress a smile that he'd remembered. "'Some sort of scientist' doesn't quite cover it."

"Enlighten me," he challenged, leaning forward on his elbows.

She copied his gesture. "Okay. I'm a theoretical astrophysicist. I basically make mathematical models to rationalize and predict natural phenomena, but the whole reason I'm in New Mexico is to study these atmospheric occurrences that could be indicative of wormholes, which I wrote my thesis on. I got my PhD when I was twenty-one." She was enjoying the awe on his face, so she kept going, "I graduated from high school when I was sixteen, and I've been a card-carrying member of Mensa since I was fourteen. I have an estimated IQ that is higher than Albert Einstein's."

He was silent for what felt like hours, the seconds dragging out in an impressive display of the fluidity of time.

There was a deep admiration and affection in his eyes, and she was tempted to lean back in her seat, but something about his gaze held her in place.

"And yet I met you flailing about on the ground like a beached whale."

The tension of the moment cracked and Jane was tempted to kis--smack that smug look off his face. "I was super sore, okay?"

"I understand, and jesting aside--I am astonished that I've been given the opportunity to be the fake lover of such an accomplished woman." She heard a note of something sad in his voice, but he lost it a moment later when he said, "I am to be the trophy husband, correct?"

She giggled, "Of course not. I'll let you keep your job. I can be merciful."

He took a sip of his coffee before he asked, "Are there actually Mensa membership cards?"

"How else would we get into our top-secret hideouts?" Jane joked, already pulling her card out of her wallet.

He picked up the card, examining it carefully. "I think I can say for certain that you are the most brilliant person I've ever met. You probably outrank multiple people combined."

She smiled. It had been a while since someone was so unabashedly impressed by her, and it was a heady feeling.

She slid the card back into her wallet, saying offhandedly, "I'm in the running for a Nobel, too."

"I thought you had no surprises left for me, Jane Foster."

"That's about it, I think. The most exciting part about me is my work," she said, looking down.

"That's certainly a fascinating part of who you are," Thor conceded, "but I just so happen to find you quite exciting, without the fancy Mensa card and Nobel prize."

Jane felt a raging blush rising, all this talk about her and her accomplishments suddenly pressing down on her. "Enough about me. What about you?"

"I'm afraid my story isn't nearly as interesting as yours."

"I just so happen to find you quite exciting," she said, throwing his words back at him.

He smiled, shyly this time, and Jane decided she quite liked that. "I didn't have much money when I finally got to school," he began, "I was crashing with friends over the summer after we finished our A-levels. I didn't have much of a plan, because all my friends were going to uni, and I'd applied, but... I couldn't afford to attend.

"I made a useless lump of myself for the better part of the next year, bouncing from job to job before I suddenly got in my head the wild idea to start fresh in America. I applied to several schools, got the best aid package from New Mexico State, applied for my visa, and... Here I am ten years later."

"So I'm guessing you majored in exercise science?"

"Among other things," he answered.

"Oh, you can't just give me an answer like that," she teased. "What else did you study?"

"I also received a degree in kinesiology and a minor in biomechanics."

Jane was pleasantly surprised. "And you just work in a gym? You could be doing just about anything you wanted with that background." Kinesiology and biomechanics both required extensive studies in anatomy, engineering, and physics. She'd always sensed how clever Thor was, but she had no idea it was to this extent.

He just shrugged, taking on that shy note again. "Someday I might. It's good to have the options. But I just like working with the people."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I get to meet new people nearly every day. I get to track the progress of those I work with and watch them improve," he said. "Just the other day, I helped this man who was recently retired reach his goal weight and it was..." His words seemed to fail him, but Jane figured the glow in his face was enough of an indicator. "I like making a difference in people's lives, I suppose."

Jane felt so much admiration for this man in that moment, and realized she could certainly listen to him speak for hours.

Their respective coffee cups were long empty, but she was past caring. "Tell me more," she said softly.

And so he did.

. . . .

Christmas was fast approaching, and it was time to implement the next phase of her plan.

Initiating a phone call was something she rarely did, so when she called her mother, after they said their initial hellos, Mrs. Foster’s first words were,  _“Is everything all right?”_

And it was time. “Everything is good. Great, even. I actually wanted to ask you something.”

_“Shoot.”_

“So I was wondering if I could bring Thor for Christmas.” There was a long enough pause on the other end of the line to make Jane wonder if she’d lost the call. “Mom?”

 _“I’m here,”_  she answered, sounding far more grave than Jane had thought she would.  _“Honey, are you sure? You guys have only been dating for how long? Since October?”_

Jane nearly laughed. “How long have you been asking me when I’m going to bring a guy around?”

_“Yes, I know, but the last time you brought anyone by, it was Don, and look how that turned out.”_

“So what are you saying?” Jane asked, wondering if her whole plan had been for nothing. (She remembered his smiles and his pained eyes and how he listened and realized that even if this plan fell through, it hadn’t been for nothing.)

 _“I’m not saying anything, I promise,”_  Mom said earnestly.  _“When you told me about him at Thanksgiving, you sounded absolutely smitten. I just worry about you.”_

“Mom, he’s a wonderful man. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

There was another pause before she answered.  _“You know I trust your judgement, honey. You are smart and capable and your father and I couldn’t be any more proud of you. But you said the same thing last time. I know I push about you finding someone--”_

“Mom,” Jane began, emotion filling her.

 _“No, no, just let me get this out, okay? I know I push. I let my own experience dictate how I dealt with you and your life. Sharing your life with someone can be the best thing to happen to you. I know it’s been the best thing in mine. I love you to the moon and back, but I didn’t always understand you. You were always so wrapped up in learning, I was afraid you’d spend so much time looking up at the sky, you’d never get the chance to appreciate the things down here with the rest of us.”_  Jane felt tears slip from her eyelashes, and realized that she’d begun to tear up.  _“And I’m afraid of how much my pushing made you stumble into a relationship you didn’t want.”_  Now it sounded like her mom was tearing up too, and like most children, she couldn’t handle when her mom cried.

“Mom, don’t blame yourself for Don,” Jane said, aware of the tremble in her own voice. “That was entirely my mistake.”

_“I’m glad you don’t, Jane, but it doesn’t change the fact that I still feel responsible for my child’s well being. And lately, with all your new work with those storms you were telling me about and how-how they were possibly connected to the wormholes you wrote your thesis on, I was more afraid than ever that I was losing you. Which isn’t fair, because some significant other shouldn’t ever tether you to anything. They should be the ones who make you fly higher. I want you to be able to fly as high as you possibly can, and you shouldn’t let someone drag you down just to appease me.”_

Oh god. In the span of a few tearful minutes, everything inside of Jane had inverted. She almost felt ready to throw up.

_“Are you still there?”_

“Yeah, yeah, I just need a minute.” What did she do? Her carefully crafted plan was absolutely pointless now. Should she come clean? Say that she and Thor are just friends, that she’d been faking for months to fool her family?

But then she realized that if she came clean… Thor would have nowhere to go.  _Trust me, Jane, a holiday with your family as opposed to sitting by myself with A Christmas Story on a loop sounds like the best way I could spend my time._

_My family situation is… complex._

“Thor is nothing like Don. Believe me,” Jane finally said.

She heard Mom’s smile in her voice over the phone,  _“I’m glad, honey. We can’t wait to meet him.”_

Jane couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so happy after a phone call with her mom.

. . . .

For some reason, Jane’s life, for the first time, was going absolutely perfectly.

Her research was going smoothly, each piece of data she collected evolving her work positively and she was coming close to being able to call her hypothesis a theory. Some of the colleagues in her field had already started calling her and offering her early congratulations (A few were obviously trying to ride her coattails into the spotlight, but she was in far too good of a mood to let them bring her down.) Several universities were already inviting her as a guest lecturer. Scientific American had called her office about setting up an interview and photoshoot.

Thor was honestly the best fake boyfriend ever. They saw each other at the gym, and each time they met up, whether at their coffee shop or someplace else, she left with good feelings and more knowledge about him.

She’d kept her promise to not ask about his family again, so she was bereft of knowledge about that part of his life, but she knew many of his childhood stories, remembered the names of many of his friends who he’d left behind in London. (Three guys named Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg seemed prominent in most of these tales. He had also apparently known Sif “like a sister” back in the day too. Jane would have to save the story of “bleached blonde bob” Sif for when she really needed it.)

They made sure to take a lot of pictures to document their romance (Thor’s idea.)

(“Another one?”

“Aye, another! You always tell me that small details are the important part of proving any hypothesis.”)

Though it seemed every detail of their false relationship was meticulously planned and executed, they hadn’t yet broached the topic of physical intimacy. All they’d done was hold hands, lean on each other when they were at each other’s places and the movie was drawing late into the night, link arms while they walked down the street, casually touch each during conversation. Things that could easily be ascribed to close friends, which Jane stubbornly considered them. (Because a man and a woman could  _easily_  have a close, intimate friendship regardless of the fact that the man was drop dead gorgeous on his “bad days.”) But Jane knew, considering what she knew about her family, they’d definitely be expected to kiss. Probably multiple times. And probably have Aunt Stefania heckle them and yell, “ _That’s_  not a kiss!” (Probably followed by her grabbing Uncle Horace’s collar and proclaiming, “Now  _this_  is a kiss!” and giving a thorough demonstration.)

But she kept putting off asking him about it, and apparently, he had the same idea, since he’d never hinted at testing their solidly platonic boundaries.

She was on her way to meet Thor at their coffee shop. Their workout schedules had unfortunately not intersected that day, so they’d decided to meet up after her session with Sif. Since the weather was nice, she’d tucked away her car keys in her purse and decided to walk to the shop. New Mexico in the winter was hardly the frozen tundra of her youth, but the winter could certainly offer an array of dismal weather options, and she wasn’t about to pass up a cloudless, sunny day.

She was only a few doors down when she ran into him.

Not the him she was looking forward to seeing in a few minutes.

The first him.

The him who’d been the first to hold her heart and had punished her for it.

The him who had nearly caused her to give up her work, who had kept her heartbroken in her apartment for longer than she cares to remember.

The him who she’d wasted so much time on.

And he still had the gall to look pleased to see her. “Jane!”

She was tempted to turn and walk away. Ignore him and make her way to the shop on a different route.

But she wasn’t that Jane Foster anymore. She would look this asshole in the eye for the first time in eight years and she would show him that he hadn’t beaten her.

“Don,” she replied stiffly.

“How are you, hon?” he asked, still with that smile on his face.

Instinct made her want to cower. Instinct made her want to say I’m fine. How are you? But her instinct about him had been wrong before. “Hon?” she asked instead. “Eight years, and you still feel that you have the right to talk to me, much less call me pet names?”

The confident smile shook slightly. He hadn’t been expecting that.  _Surprise, mother fucker. I grew a backbone while you were away._  “You were the one who stopped to talk to me,” he replied.

Jane rolled her eyes. “Turning it back on me, putting me on the defensive. Classic, Don. Fucking priceless.”

She was given the satisfaction of watching his expectations be shot to hell. “Look, Jane, after we broke up--”

“You broke up with me actually, which I never got a chance to thank you for.”

“Will you just listen?”

Her rage rose in her like a dragon. “ _No_. I do not owe you an iota of my time. Each second I stand here is a fucking gift. You screwed me over. You screwed me over so many times, with six different women, actually, and then you asked me to marry you. I’m ashamed that I said yes. I am so damned ashamed that I was almost shackled to you for the rest of my life.”

“Jane, I did a lot of soul-searching after we--after I broke up with you. I’m a different person now, and clearly you are too, and maybe--maybe not all the changes you went through were positive, but I think that we could be better than ever.”

She nearly laughed out loud. “Oh my god, are you doing what I think you’re doing right now?”

“Jane, I’ve been trying to contact you for the past couple of years. I want what we had back, and I think you do, too.”

If only she could actually spit fire, Don would be burned to a crisp in front of her. “Exactly, Don.  _You_  want what we had back. You want that meek little Jane Foster who would’ve bent over backwards to make you happy, who had a self-worth so low she went and begged the women who slept with you to stop so that we could be happy. I used to blame them for driving you away from me. I used to think that they were the whores, that they were disgusting for trying to drive us apart. But no, Don, that was all you,” she finished, stabbing an accusing finger in his direction.

Don stepped closer to her. “Jane, I’m sorry that you feel as if I’ve wronged you. I did a lot of things back then that I’m not proud of, but I’m ready to be the person you need--”

Jane stepped backwards, keeping her distance from him, and she was aware of how loud her voice had become, but she honestly didn’t care. “You’re ready? You’re  _ready_? Like I’ve been fucking waiting all this time for you to come and swoop in and carry me out of my misery?” She scoffed. “You’re delusional if you think we’re ever going to speak again.”

He moved forward again, more aggressive, and Jane was sure to back up a bit further. “Jane, you don’t know what you’re saying. You were always confused about what you wanted--” He reached for her arm.

Jane punched him.

She wasn’t sure what she was thinking when she balled her right fist and threw her best right hook into Don’s face, but all she knew now was that the movies did not get the sound of flesh and bone smacking together, and they definitely didn’t show just how badly punching someone  _hurt_.

The punch had been the dragon’s last breath, everything exploding in fire and unfurling wings, and when Don stumbled backwards, her anger left her in a rush.

It had made her feel powerful and invincible, and now she was mildly horrified that she’d just punched someone. Granted, she didn’t regret that it was Don, but still. She was a woman of learning, she was supposed to use her words; she wasn’t a violent person. “Just go,” she said finally, and she turned away from him and to begin to make her way to the coffee shop door.

Before she could fully turn, she felt Don’s forceful hand on her arm. “This is not how this was supposed to go, Jane,” he growled, and instead of angry, she now felt very afraid.

She tried to break his hold, leaning away from him, but his grip held fast around her arm. “Let go of me,” she said, trying to call up that anger she’d had in her before.

Seemingly faster than Jane could blink, Don’s hand was wrenched from her arm, and there was a very large body between her and her ex.

“It would be wise to listen to the lady,” Thor said in a tone she’d  _never_  heard from him before. She’d always thought of him as a kind, gentle man. (The man who had smiled like the sun and helped her to her feet on a frozen parking lot). This tone wouldn’t have been out of place on a bloody battlefield where the victor was confronting the conquered.

Don might be big enough to be able to overpower Jane, but he was dwarfed by Thor’s sheer size, and made to seem even smaller by Thor’s obvious anger.

Don took a few steps back, “This some other cousin you didn’t tell me about, Janie?” he asked her.

“Just a concerned friend,” Thor answered. “Now you’d best be going. That nose of yours might need some medical attention.”

Jane finally focused on Don’s face long enough to see that his nose looked a bit crooked, and was accompanied by twin rivers of blood from his nostrils.

Her ex looked like he wanted to say something further, his eyes darting between Jane and Thor, his lips quivering with unsaid words.

In the end, he spun and walked away. His gait was fast as he made his way back up the sidewalk. (Jane made a mental note to thank Steve. Whatever he had said or done had clearly wrought enough terror from Don to warrant avoiding another similar confrontation.)

Thor turned towards her and lost the aggressive tone of voice when he asked, “Are you all right?”

She nodded wordlessly, beginning to feel the throbbing in her knuckles where her hand had made contact.

He looked like he wanted so badly to reach out to her (and honestly, she sort of wanted him to), but instead he said, “We should get some ice on your hand.”

“Okay,” she said.

They began walking towards the shop doors. “Raise your hand up above your heart. Keep it up there. That’s it.”

Once inside, he guided her towards the puffy leather chairs by the fireplace instead of their usual table and gestured for her to sit. He walked up to the counter, asking the barista for a plastic bag full of ice.

“Keep your hand elevated,” he called over to her when she let her hand drift down to the armrest, “at least until we get the ice on it.”

He returned a few moments later, and he was kneeling down next to the chair and placing the bag directly on her swollen knuckles.

She hissed as the cold hit her hot skin.

“Sorry,” Thor apologized.

“It’s not your fault,” Jane replied quietly, avoiding his eyes.

“That was quite the punch,” he observed, his hand still holding the bag against hers.

“Sif has been having me do kickboxing for cardio.”

“You have good form,” he said, clearly not wanting to touch the elephant in the room.

Jane shouldn’t want to owe him an explanation, yet she felt herself telling him before she could stop it. “He was my ex,” she supplied flatly.

“I gathered.”

“How long were you… how much did you hear?”

“Just the last bit. I was worried when I heard you shouting. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear so much.”

She couldn’t help but feel touched by his concern. “Thank you,” she replied, but her voice was flat. She should never have stopped. Thor should never have had to intervene in the first place.

“I thought he was going to leave you alone. You certainly handled yourself just fine without my help, but when he grabbed you…” He adjusted the ice absent-mindedly. “I couldn’t stand by. I apologize if I’ve upset you in any way.”

It took her a full second to register his words, then realized how disappointed in him she might sound. “Oh, god, no, Thor. I’m not mad at you,” she assured, looking into his eyes again. “I’m… I don’t know. I’m mad at myself. I’m mad at him. I’m… I meant that thank you. If you hadn’t…” Jane swallowed heavily. “Just thank you.”

He nodded, his own eyes falling.

“It was eight years ago when I last saw him,” Jane started, and his gaze found hers again.

“Jane, you don’t have to tell me.”

She steeled herself against the temptation to hide behind her walls, to hide behind her intimacy issues like a protective wrapping. It had been so long since she’d told this story. “It’s okay. I want to.” She took a deep breath and began again, “I’d just gotten my PhD, and I felt young and invincible. I met this guy at a conference in New York. Blake, MD.” She scoffed. “He was everything I thought I’d want in a guy. Tall, dark, handsome, dimples, an MD, solid job, good family. So I leapt right in and fell hard. I was so  _stupid_ , you know? I missed every single warning sign that we were going south, and fast. He would keep me from going out; I lost most of my friends from school. And I didn’t even see it.” Her voice broke, but no tears fell. “I kept making the dumbest excuses for him. Even when I found out he was cheating--and not just with one woman. Six. I still forgave him, and I… I promised him that I would try to do better. I bought sexy lingerie and tried to lose weight even though I was already thin enough. I even looked into getting breast implants,” she said with a self deprecating laugh. “But he just kept cheating. And then one day, he busts out the velvet box and asks me to marry him, and do you know what my first thought was? I was just so relieved. I thought that it had meant he chose me, that I was finally enough for him.”

“But you didn’t marry him,” Thor finally said.

“No. I was already drowning in trying to plan the perfect wedding, trying to be the perfect fianceé, trying to learn how to be the perfect wife. A few months after he proposed, he broke up with me. No real explanation. Just said that we weren’t working, he had made a mistake, and that I needed to move all my stuff out of his place as soon as possible.”

Thor moved then, and she thought for a brief second that he was going to kiss her, only to feel his lips press into her forehead instead. “You deserve far better, Jane,” he whispered into the skin there.

“I know that now,” she replied.

When he pulled away, he was so close she could feel his warm breath washing across her lips. This wasn’t how she pictured it--she was pretty sure the baristas (two people, a redhead named Natasha and this other guy who had nice arms named Clint) had been hoping they’d get together since they’d first started coming here; her hand hurt like hell, though the ice was starting to numb the area; and she’d just unloaded nearly a decade of emotional baggage on him--but god, she’d give just about anything in the world right now for him to just close the gap and--

Then he pulled away.

Jane couldn’t quelch the rush of frustration rising within her before she remembered that she shouldn’t be kissing him. They were just friends, and Thor was just doing her a favor because he was a nice guy. He didn’t owe her anything, certainly not any sort of feelings in return.

Frustration was replaced with embarrassment. He probably didn’t even feel the same way. He’s out of her league in the looks department, and probably in the emotional availability apartment, and they weren’t even that similar; it would never work.

He lifted the bag off her hand, gently picking it up between his. “Tell me if anything hurts,” he told her before he started applying pressure over her knuckles and metacarpals.

He held her gaze after each test, watching for her reaction.

“No, it kind of just feels awful everywhere.”

That made a smile creep across his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If there’s no sharp pain, then there’s likely no fracture. Keep that ice on. If the swelling doesn’t go down after a day or two, or you start hearing any strange pops or clicks, you should get it x-rayed.”

His detachment was getting to her. “I will,” she began, and then said, tenatively, “Look, I’m… I’m sorry if you didn’t want to hear my sad sob story. I don’t want things to be weird with us.”

“Neither do I,” he answered sincerely, but Jane could tell something else was bothering him (when she picked up that ability, she had no idea.)

“So are… is everything okay with you?”

“Why do you ask?”

She bit her lip, wondering if she should push. “I don’t know. You seem kinda…  _off_  all of a sudden. Also, you know, feel free to take a chair whenever you want. I feel kinda bad lounging here while you’re sitting on the floor.”

He smiled softly, and moved into the chair to her right.

“ _Are_  you okay?” Jane prompted when he didn’t answer.

He seemed to contemplate his answer before he said, “I’m fine. Just been having one of those weeks.”

He was keeping something from her. Whatever it was, he clearly didn’t want to share it with her.

 _You have no right to push, Jane,_ she reminded herself.  _This is not a real relationship._

“Okay. If you ever want to talk, I’m here,” she offered, and quickly switched the subject. “So, I’ve got that interview with Scientific America this weekend.”

Then her fun, conversational Thor was back as they delved into less volatile topics. Even so, Jane couldn’t help the curdle of worry in her belly, even as she continued to chant,  _You have no right to push. You’re just friends._

. . . .

He texted her later that night after she had just finished off the last remnants of her stir fry.

**_I’m sorry about today._ **

He could mean so many things, and the text only served to make her more confused.

**_What do you have to be sorry about?_ **

It was five minutes before the reply came.

**_Do you mind if I come over? I would like to talk to you in person, if you don’t mind._ **

She immediately responded,  ** _Absolutely. My door is open._**

. . . .

Fifteen minutes later, Jane was wiping her hands on her dish towel in the kitchen when she heard her door open. “Jane?” Thor called out.

“Kitchen,” she called back.

She was leaning on the counter as he walked in. He was wearing the leather jacket he was so fond of and made him an even more imposing figure; but now, he hunched into it, like there was a biting cold wind that only he could feel.

The look on his face prompted her to ask, “Beer?”

He nodded. “Please.”

She grabbed two Coronas from the fringe, placing one on the table and keeping the other for herself. She sat at the table, and gestured towards his beer indicating that he should do the same.

When he sat down, the dark look on his face made every nurturing instinct Jane had in her flare to life, wanting nothing more than to make it better. “You are not fine,” she told him. “I really care about you, okay? So tell me what is wrong so I can try to make it better.”

He spun his bottle, but didn’t move to open it yet. “Anniversary of my mum’s death is tomorrow.”

Every organ in Jane’s midsection dropped to the floor.

“I always… I always try to call Dad. Every year. And every year, I’m reminded why I was so eager to leave London in the first place. Even though I hate it, I can’t take the chance that this…” His voice wavered. “That this might be the year that he finally forgives me.”

Jane’s breath caught in her throat. What little she’d known about his family life suddenly expanded, but only left more questions.

“I can never stop hoping that this will be the year I can finally come home.”

Jane didn’t say a single word, but there was a deep feeling of  _screw it_  when she stood up, and walked behind his chair.

“Jane-” he said in almost panic before she leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her head against his cheek.

The effect was immediate. She felt the tension leave his shoulders, and he deflated into her embrace. She couldn’t see his face, but it didn’t matter. She could feel his body tremble and she knew that he was crying. He didn’t make a single sound, but his hands came up to her arms, clutching her like a lifeline.

She lost track of how long she stood there, holding him. At some point she’d begun swaying back and forth, slowly, slightly.

Her back had only just started to ache when his shaking ceased, and his hands released her arms. Taking a page out of his book, she stepped around and pressed a kiss to his forehead. She pulled back and straightened and she could see that his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen, and his cheeks were wet until he scrubbed a gruff hand over them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and Jane nearly rolled her eyes.

“Stop that. You don’t need to apologize. I told you I was here for you. That means I’m here for you. No questions asked.”

He  _smiled_  then. Not a full one, not quite a happy one, but it was enough to set everything in her at ease. “You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful person I’ve met.” He stood, beer unopened, and said, “I--I suppose I should go.”

Jane scoffed. “You’re nuts if you think I’m letting you drive home all by yourself right now. What you are going to do,” she said brusquely as she forced the beer into his hand, “right now, is to sit yourself down on the couch, drink your beer, and watch a movie with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude upon your evening anymore than I already have--”

“Trust me, this will be eight times more fun with you here. What you are seeing right now are my Thursday night plans. I just got  _How To Train Your Dragon_ from Netflix, and if what Darcy has told me is true, I might need an emotional spirit guide to get through it.”

He smiled again, closer to his real one. “It is a good film.”

“Perfect!” she said, shooing him towards the living room. “Can you set it up while I make popcorn?”

She had  _no_  clue if she was doing this right. She hoped that a good movie and superficial conversation would be enough to put him at ease for at least a little while.

. . . .

He fell asleep on her couch. She wasn’t surprised; she herself was feeling a bit taxed from the emotional toll tonight had taken.

They’d relaxed a bit into their normal mode, teasing and resting against each other as they watched the adventures of Hiccup and Toothless unfold on screen. Jane knew he was still feeling a little tense about what had just transpired, but she felt like this was as good a solution as any.

When the credits rolled (it was a really good film, Thor hadn’t been lying, but Darcy might have been exaggerating a bit about the emotional spirit guide) he was already half sprawled over both her and the couch.

She had noticed his breathing starting to deepen and his eyelids drooping dangerously before Hiccup had even successfully replaced Toothless’s tail fin.

By the final climactic battle, Thor was fast asleep against her side.

Trying to move like a ghost, Jane managed to arrange his huge body on her couch without waking him up.

He’d lost his jacket and shoes before the film started, so she grabbed a spare blanket and settled it over him.

He shifted a little in his sleep, but didn’t look like he was going to awaken.

Then Jane retreated to her bedroom, and as she flopped down to sleep after she washed up and dressed in her pajamas, she was struck very suddenly with the urge to curl around Thor.

Dismissing the feelings as some sort of latent sympathy for his plight, she closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep with the knowledge that he was right outside her door and the feeling that her bed suddenly felt too large.

. . . .

She awoke to her alarm and the smell of coffee brewing. The former was met with a disgruntled groan and a fumbling hand shutting it off, and the latter with mild confusion until she remembered that Thor had stayed over.

She wasn’t really sure how to she was going to deal with him this morning. She’d begun to realize that no matter how much she denied it, no matter how stubbornly she pushed down her feelings, she definitely felt much more for him than mere friendship.

Regardless of her (slow and winding and repressed) realization, just because she had feelings for him didn’t at all mean he had any feelings for her beyond friendship. She couldn’t just assume because he liked spending time with her that it meant anything besides a platonic connection.

Her pjs were neither flattering nor revealing, and she wasn’t sure if she was going to consider that a win or a loss. Come to think of it, Jane didn’t think she had a single pair of “sexy” pajamas, even if she was looking to make some sort of impression.

“God, don’t overthink this,” she sternly reminded herself before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and making her way to the bathroom. After she washed her face (tooth brushing would wait until post-coffee time because Colgate and Maxwell House didn’t mix well) she wandered out into the kitchen.

His clothes were slightly rumpled having been slept in, but it did nothing to detract from her amusement of him pouring coffee into two mugs.

“This kind of destroys the image that all British people drink tea in the mornings,” she said playfully on her approach.

He turned his head towards her entrance, a small smirk on his face. “I’m sure Her Majesty would deport me if she knew,” he joked back, much to Jane’s relief. She’d been slightly worried about his mental state this morning, and considering what he’d told her last night, she hadn’t been sure what to expect once she got to the kitchen.

It appears her worries were for naught (for now). He picked up both of the mugs and handed one to her.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” he said before he took a sip.

Jane couldn’t handle drinking the stuff black and added copious amounts of CoffeeMate before she could even consider it drinkable. “Anytime,” she said, tone nonchalant but her sentiments honest.

They drank their coffee in companionable silence, neither sitting down and instead leaning on the countertop behind them, shoulder to shoulder.

“What are you doing today?” she asked quietly. “Aside from… you know.”

She watched his hand tighten on his coffee and she wished she hadn’t asked. “Nothing, really. I’ll probably be a bit less reliable to drive anywhere.”

Again Jane was hit with the deep desire to ease his suffering, but she had no clue how. “If you need anything…”

He sighed, sounding tired. “Yes, I know. You’ll be here.”

She nodded. “Yep.”

He downed the rest of his coffee quickly, and Jane worried for the state of his mouth because hers was still pretty hot.

“I should be going.”

She wouldn’t press him to stay any longer than he wanted to. Not today. “Let me walk you out,” she offered, placing her cup on the table.

They headed through the hall that led to her door, and just before they reached the welcome mat Thor turned towards her so swiftly she nearly bumped into his chest.

“Jane,” he began.

“Yeah?”

“With your family… we will be expected to kiss, correct?”

She gulped. Oh god. Here it comes. The discussion they’d both been studiously avoiding. “Yeah. They--yeah.” He was probably going to tell her that he couldn’t do it, that they were friends and he’d like to stay as platonic as possible, that he didn’t want to--

“Then perhaps the first time we do, it should be without an audience.”

Well. Well then. “I--okay.”

He’d been waiting for her assent, and as soon as she said okay, he was cradling the back of her head with one hand, the other pressing against her lower back, pulling her closer to his warm body and then his lips were on hers.

Jane was shell shocked, so she could barely respond to the kiss that was almost tentative, a barely there press of lips until Jane decided she was  _not_  going to just melt in his arms like a dishcloth.

He seemed like he was going to pull back, his hands softening on her hair and her back, and Jane was about to either make the best or the worst decision of her life. She pulled his face back to hers with both hands and made it her mission to plunder his mouth.

And he kissed her back. _He kissed her back._

His hands weren’t stationary either as their lips parted and their tongues collided, and she had no idea why they’d ever thought that what they had was  _platonic_.

He seemed to love her hair, always having at least one hand tangled in it, and she returned the favor, gladly burying her hands in his soft, golden locks. His other hand skimmed her hip, her ribcage, and his thumb brushed past the side of her breast in a pass that nearly made her lose what breath she had left in her lungs.

Air became an issue quickly, and when they broke apart, Jane’s heart was racing and her breath came out in pants.

Thor didn’t seem to be better off than she, the blue of his irises disappearing behind dilated pupils. He looked beautiful.

She nearly said so, her heart flying high until his next words shattered it.

“I can’t do this,” he said softly. It was hard to believe him; they were still sharing the same breath, their hands hadn’t made a single move to release each other.

Later, she’d scold herself for being so weak. “Why not?”

He closed his eyes, his jaw working. “Today, of all days,” he whispered, and she wondered if he’d meant to say it aloud, let alone if she’d been meant to hear it.

Those words couldn’t have been more effective than if someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over them.

She let go of him like he burned her, stepping back quickly and refusing to meet his eyes. How could she have been so stupid? He’d confided in her, trusted her as a friend, and what had she done? Taken advantage of him when he was at his most emotionally vulnerable.

She was no better than Don.

“Be safe. Call me if you need a ride,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice even.

There was a strangled look about him when she said those words, but he made no protest, turning quickly and shutting the door softly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eight months after I started this thing, and it's finally done. (I do not know how to keep my side projects from becoming huge. I need help.)
> 
> Chapter includes some background Steggy.

She hadn’t seen or heard from Thor in three days. It shouldn’t make Jane’s stomach churn uncomfortably, but it did.

She still visited the gym (she hadn’t been 100% kidding about the whole “fitness is about forming the habit” thing) but she hadn’t seen him a single time she was there. Jane tried to bring it up as casually as possible to Sif while she was doing her stretching warmup. Aside from a knowing look, her trainer said nothing snide about the obvious way she was digging for information. “He’s been bumping his clients to morning sessions. He’s also been in a pretty shit mood lately. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

If Jane had been looking to settle her conscience, that hadn’t helped. “I--no.” She grabbed her toes, feeling the twinge in her hamstrings.

“Look, I don’t know which one of you screwed the pooch, but one of you needs to unscrew it. Quickly. You’re unfocused, Thor seems like he’s ready to either cry or beat the crap out of someone, and that’s a weird place to be with him.” She narrowed her eyes at Jane. “Fix it.”

“I don’t know how,” Jane answered, voice pathetically small.

Sif sighed. “Look, I dated him too, once. Don’t worry, you don’t have any competition. It lasted one hour and a super awkward kiss before we realized that we were basically going out with our sibling.” She shook her head, as if disgusted. “Point is, I know him. If he pissed you off, forgive him. He’ll grovel until he feels like he’s back in your good graces. If you pissed him off, he’ll forgive you. Approach him like you would some sort of wild animal. Food and beer helps.”

Jane nodded and moved into the butterfly stretch, absorbing what Sif said until she realized that Sif was talking to her as though she and Thor were actually dating. “We’re not actually… we’re just friends. Er, we were, but I messed up, and… I appreciate your advice, but I don’t know if I can get it back.”

Sif rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah, you guys have your little fake dating deal, but if you really think about it, for all intents and purposes, you’ve been in a pretty serious committed relationship for the past couple of months.”

She’d agree, because she’d thought about it far more than she should have, but really, judging by what had happened, she didn’t think Sif was right. After all, Sif had no idea she’d gone and actually tried to _start something_ at the _worst_ possible moment, and then got shot down.

Instead of responding, Jane said, “I’m stretched. Can we start?”

* * *

Day four, still no word.

Did she just waltz over there unannounced? Did she call? Text? Send up a bat signal? Ugh, this was why it was so much easier to avoid romantic entanglements. Just basically relationships altogether.

She settled on texting him.

_**Hey** _

She hit send. Waited half a second. Sent another.

_**We need to talk.** _

She quickly followed it up with: **_Can I come over?_**

And then she waited. He should be off work by now.

Barely a minute later, the gray box with the dots popped up, signaling he was responding. Her heart was inexplicably in her throat.

She flipped her phone over, resting the screen against the table. It buzzed. Her hand hesitated over it the barest of seconds before she decided she was being stupid and picked it up.

_**Sure. I’ve missed you.** _

That… that wasn’t something you said to friends, right? Or was it some sort of guy friend code? Was he telling her that he _missed her_ or like, hey, bro, I missed you.

She nearly smacked herself. Don’t overthink.

_**Missed you too. Be over in 15** _

Should she have not just insisted on coming over? What if he was doing something right now-- _fuck_.

He set (some of) her unease to rest when he replied. **_Sounds good._**

All right. Do or die time.

* * *

The first time she’d visited his place, she’d whistled and asked, “Jeez, do you have a secret job as a stripper or something?” because his apartment was gorgeous. The kind of place that you see in an IKEA catalogue. The red color scheme made everything look rich and decadent, and the furniture, while well loved, was some quality stuff. For all her accolades, she’d never made a big deal of her home furnishings. It was a place she slept more than anything else, because the lab was where she was really home.

(He had responded cheekily, “I get very good tips from my clients.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Where I get my supplementary income nor how I spend my nights at the Dancing Snake are none of your concern.”

She was still really only 70-30 on whether he was just messing with her or not.)

She steadied her racing heart with a deep breath as she raised her hand to knock.

When he opened the door--oh. “You shaved,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

He smiled at that. “I did indeed,” he replied without missing a beat, stroking his now-bare chin. “Come in?” he asked, opening his posture to let her in.

She took the invite, saying, “Yeah, yeah, sorry. ‘How are you’ is what I should’ve lead with.”

Most of the time, he was about as messy as she was with his own systematic chaos to his clutter. Today, however, the apartment was nearly spotless. “You cleaned. Got a hot date I don’t know about?” She said it as brightly as possible.

When he didn’t answer her right away, her heart fell. “Oh,” she uttered quietly, accidentally. God, she’d fucked up so bad.

“Jane, I--”

She could see the apology coming from a mile away, so she held up a hand, effectively cutting him off. “Please don’t apologize. I should be the one doing that. I’m,” she paused, summoning up all her courage and locking her feelings deep within her, “so, so sorry. I should never have kissed you. You weren’t in a great place, and I took advantage and I’m really, really sorry.”

She was scared to meet his eyes. It was Schroëdinger’s cat--as long as she didn’t look, she didn’t have to confront the reality that she’d created. He didn’t say anything for a while, which somehow prompted her to continue, “You’re a great friend. That’s all I will ever need you to be. I’m really sorry that I gave you the impression that I had romantic feelings for you. I know that’s not… that’s not the issue here, but I just really needed to say it.” Her stomach rolled with her words, but she remained steadfast. She had to do this. She cared way too much about him to just give up their friendship.

“Thank you,” he ended up saying. “Not just the apology, but for being my friend. That night, I don’t know what I... It’s felt like forever since I’ve had one of those.”

“What about Sif?”

“There’s a difference between a sister and a friend. Sif is most certainly the former.”

“I’ll be your friend as long as you’ll have me,” Jane answered. “I meant it when I said I missed you. I miss hanging out with you and seeing you at the gym and talking to you.”

“And I you.”

Jane ignored her feelings pounding on the door inside her. “Look, if it makes you more comfortable, we don’t have to do the fake dating thing anymore. I’ll just suck it up, and my family can deal. I just know I want you to be a part of my life.”

Thor smiled then, so close to the one he used to give her it made her throat ache. “There’s no need to call off our arrangement. It would still be happy to accompany you home for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Like you said, I’ve missed you. And I can always sneak in favors for my friends.”

She was relieved that he was willing to still be her friend, even more so that he was still on board with fooling her family into thinking she was not a romantically inept spinster, but she couldn’t deny the twinge of sadness that still rang true within her.

“So, I, uh, I guess I better get out of your hair. Be responsible. Use protection. That… whole deal.”

He didn’t quite smile, but his face was happy. “It’s not exactly that kind of date.”

“Oh my god, stop being coy with me and answer either yes or no: Are you or are you not a stripper on the side?” He only laughed and waggled his eyebrows at her. She threw her hands up in frustration. “I am never going to know for sure and it’s going to kill me.”

“No, it’s a, ah, meeting with an immigration attorney.”

That brought all thoughts of joking to a screeching halt. “Immigration? Is everything--are you okay?” If this had been before the whole kissing debacle, she would’ve said, _Shit, do we need to get married so we can get you a green card?_ but despite her apology, things still didn’t feel completely settled between them, so she kept it to herself. She wished she’d never kissed him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a naturalized citizen now. They wouldn’t be able to deport me even if they wanted to.” He took a breath, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It’s about my brother.”

“Loki, right?” The one who was locked away in a mental hospital and with whom Thor didn’t have any visitation rights thanks to his father.

He nodded. “I’m going to try to get my father’s custodial rights revoked and bring Loki here,” he explained. “After… after our--” he made an awkward little gesture between them and she mentally kicked herself yet again, “well, I was just reminded of something. Loki was always a bit… _different_ , and my mother and I understood him better than anyone. My father just--he doesn’t get it, you know? Loki can’t just waste away in a hospital with no visitors, which is exactly what my father is doing to him.”

She wanted to ask why their kiss reminded him of that, but now was certainly not the time and she knew it. “God, I’m sorry. I really hope it works out for you,” she said sincerely, aching to touch him but holding herself back.

He smiled, but sad this time. “My chances aren’t good. I had a hard enough time going through the US’s immigration process, let alone me trying to get my brother here who is legally in my father’s custody and is a registered mentally ill patient.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I wasted enough time trying to run from my problems, and my brother suffered for it. I need… I need to stop running,” Thor said, meeting her eye directly and causing butterflies to erupt within her.

Stuffing those behind the door with her clamorous emotions, she told him, “If you need anything, seriously, call me. I’ll be there.”

“I know you will be,” he answered. He got this wistful look on his face then, and she wanted to take it as a hopeful sign before reminding herself of what happened the last time he was emotionally vulnerable with her and the resulting damage to their friendship.

She wished him luck with the lawyer, and walked out of the apartment, feeling simultaneously more at peace and far more chaotic than she had before.

* * *

Things got back to normal. Well, as close to normal as they could be. She and Thor still went to their coffee shop, watched movies on each others’ couches, and meticulously catalogued their relationship on social media. (Each new picture of the two of them brought forth a new wave of comments and likes from her relatives. Jane rolled her eyes whenever she saw the ones saying “What a handsome guy, Jane!” because the last thing Thor needed was to have his ego stroked.)

When she’d admitted that she hadn’t been to any of New Mexico’s state parks for leisure, Thor had managed to convince Jane to take a day off one weekend and the two of them loaded their hiking gear into Thor’s car and drove north to Heron Lake State Park. The snow that had originally made them cross paths had long since melted, and though winter was nipping at their heels, no snow had yet stuck to the ground. “We need to take advantage of the lack of ice,” Thor had argued. “And it’s such a lovely day.” He’d smiled then, and she couldn’t say no to him when he wore that particular expression.

The park was nigh upon deserted. Unsurprising, since the temperature hovered just above freezing, although the sun was out in full force on the cloudless day.

They walked along one of the paths that ran along the lake. Patchy ice covered the surface, but the sunlight reflected off of the exposed water.

“I cannot believe you would even dare say that to me.”

“All of the friends in FRIENDS are assholes, Thor. You know it, I know it, the world knows it.”

“I don’t know if I can be in this fake relationship with someone whose ideals so clearly differ from mine.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t enjoy the show, because god knows I do, but you can’t deny that Monica is really manipulative, Ross is a trashy meninist--”

“Can’t argue with that,” Thor conceded.

“--Phoebe is physically violent,” she continued, “Joey is a huge misogynist, Rachel is barely even a functioning adult and does some really shitty stuff--”

“Don’t you dare finish that list.”

“And Chandler--”

“Jane.”

“Okay fine, I won’t mention Chandler.”

“Coming into my house, disrespecting my show,” Thor said playfully, bumping her with his elbow.

She bumped him back. “I’m all about hurling around personal insults.”

“Such a negative Nelly.”

“Rude.”

“Speaking of, did you see the last comment your aunt left on that picture you posted?”

Jane snorted. The photo in question had been one of them working out together, doing abs, actually, and of course, Aunt Stefania had to comment, **Abs of thunder**. There were a couple of emojis after her comment that were possibly meant to be taken as something incredibly dirty or a sign that she still hadn’t quite figured out what most of them were.

“Of course I did. Steve sent me a mortified text afterwards apologizing for his mother.”

Thor got that grin on his face then, and said, “I think we need another addition for our cyber record.” He nodded ahead at a scenic overlook where an older woman stood with her dog.

As they approached, Thor called out, “Excuse me, miss?”

The woman was obviously flattered to have been called “miss” and Jane knew how much Thor was a charmer. Without looking at him, she just knew he had that charming face on. “Er, yes?” she responded.

“Would you mind terribly taking a photo of myself and my lovely girlfriend?” he asked, slinging an arm over Jane’s shoulders. She played along, snuggling into his side and smiling.

She looked delighted that he’d asked her. “Not at all, I’d love to.”

Thor let go of her so that he could fish his phone out of his pocket. He handed it over, glancing over his shoulder as they positioned themselves in front of the overlook.

“You are such a nitpicker,” Jane commented playfully as he scooted them another inch to the left.

He looked down at her with amusement in his eyes, “Am not. I’d just like to get a nice photo, that’s all.” Another few inches to the right.

Jane rolled her eyes without any real malice. “Okay, weirdo.”

“It’s times like this that I don’t know how I put up with you.”

“Right back at you,” she answered with a wink and they both turned back with big smiles for the woman, who snapped a few shots and returned the phone.

“I took a couple for you,” she said in explanation. “You’ll have your pick.”

“Thank you so much,” Jane said.

She smiled. “You are welcome. You two are a very cute couple.”

They thanked her (because that’s just what couples do, Jane rationalized) and scrolled through the pictures together, and Jane couldn’t deny that they look like… well. Especially in the candids that the woman had taken. Thor had this smile like the sun, and she had been looking at him like he hung the moon.

She posted one of the candids. She decided against the cliched _#blessed_ and instead captioned the photo _beautiful day at heron lake state park_.

Darcy and Sif both texted her.

_**Darcy: Idk how you expect me to believe you guys aren’t fucking** _

_**Sif: You two are blind idiots.** _

Her family exploded.

**Kelly Foster: You guys look so cute together! XD**

**Horace Rogers: Jane, how are you? You both look wonderful! Can’t wait to see you again!**

**Peggy Carter: ;)**

**Steve Rogers: Looking forward to meeting this guy.**

* * *

 

About a week before they were set to leave, they were watching a marathon of the X-Files when Thor got a call from a London number.

He stared down at his phone in confusion, and probably a little bit of hope and that made her heart ache. “Might be from immigration,” he theorized, swiping his thumb across the screen to answer. “Hello?”

She couldn’t hear the voice on the other end very clearly, but they were sitting close enough on the couch that she could catch a few of the words.

_...heart attack two days ago...next of kin...your father’s okay...awake and alert..._

She watched as he asked carefully, “Did he--did he ask for you to call me?”

_no, it’s required for us to find next of kin...apologies for not contacting you sooner, his emergency contact information was rather outdated..._

Thor nodded and his body tensed. “Okay. So what do you need from me? I live in the States, but I can be on a flight within the hour.”

_...need to be driven home from the hospital...given his condition, it would be best if someone was with him, at least for the first few months...doctors can give you a better idea of his treatment and care…_

Jane felt her heart in her throat, but all she could think about was Thor. His eyes were soft, expression unreadable.

He hung up not that much later, and he simply stared at his phone for a few moments before he was standing. “My dad had a heart attack,” he explained.

“I heard most of it,” Jane explained as she too stood.

Thor looked at her then. “This is my chance.” A relieved smile broke out on his face. “I can go home.” A startled, watery laugh broke from his mouth and Jane couldn’t help but smile with him. “I’m so sorry,” he said then, “I won’t be able to come to your home for Christmas.”

At this point, that was the furthest thing from her mind. “It’s okay. God, it’s more than okay. This is what you’ve been waiting for.” She kept those pesky feelings hidden deep, the ones that wanted him here with her. It was stupid and selfish to want to keep him when he was so clearly needed elsewhere--

And he wasn’t hers. She needed to do better remembering that.

Thor rode this wild, tenuous high as he threw some clothing into a bag and opened his laptop, giving it to Jane to hunt for the soonest flight to London he could book.

He was standing next to her in the kitchen comparing a multiple layover flight to a single layover when his phone rang again.

Another London number, this time different.

Thor answered it without question or comment, “Hello?”

Jane heard it clear as day this time.

_I don’t want you here._

The voice was different, male, gruff, and loud. She knew exactly who it was.

Thor had been standing still, but somehow he still managed to freeze. Jane’s fingers came to a grinding halt as she turned to face him.

His mouth opened and closed once, twice, before he was able to speak. “Dad, they called me and told me--”

_I don’t care what the doctors told you. I don’t want you here. I’d rather call a cab._

“But how--how will you take care of yourself?”

_I don’t need you fussing over me. I have plenty of staff to help me. I’m ending this call now. You’re wasting my international minutes._

A click, and the line was dead.

Thor remained completely motionless, the phone still against his ear.

“I don’t know why I expected anything different,” he finally said, dropping the phone to the counter and bracing his hands on the edge. He clung to it as though that was the only stable thing left in his world. There were tears in his eyes.

Suddenly, Jane veritably exploded, “Thor, you expected different because he’s your father. Don’t act like you’re committing some crime by wanting to go see him, to help him. He’s supposed to love you and be there for you, and you him. He’s being childish and trying to hurt you and it hurts me because it’s working. Look at yourself! He’s done nothing but jerk you around for the last how many years of your life. But you know what? Fuck him!” Thor laughed softly, but no smile graced his face. “I’m not kidding. Fuck. Him. You keep giving him this power over you and he doesn’t deserve to have it.”

“I know,” he answered quietly. His hands were braced on the countertop, eyes straight ahead. “I wish I could just hate him. I wish I could just say ‘Fuck him’ and be done with it. He deserves it. After I--after Mum was killed I just… Loki was out of control, and I was just a kid, I didn’t know how to help him. I needed him more than ever and he just--” He slammed his hand down on the counter, making Jane jump and the laptop shake with the concussion. “And now I finally have a chance to make up for the mistakes I made, to take care of him and he’s…”

Jane laid a hand on his shoulder, “Thor, you were a kid. I don’t understand how he can blame you for your mother’s death, or anything that happened. He’s the one in the wrong here, not you.”

“You don’t know the full story.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” Thor snapped, turning to face her and breaking her hand from his shoulder. “If it wasn’t for me, she never would’ve been driving that night.” He took a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision. “I called--I was at a party. Drunk off my ass. I would’ve stayed there ‘til morning, but the bloke who owned the house had just found out that I’d been a massive prick and slept with his girlfriend, and we fought. Nearly got the coppers called on us. I tried to call Loki. He was barely even a learner, but I didn’t want to admit to my mum that I’d been drinking and fighting. I couldn’t… I called Loki but she showed up. Told me I was a bleedin’ idiot if I was asking my brother to come ‘round at that hour to pick me up from a part of town he didn’t know. We started driving home at about three or four in the morning. We were just going through an intersection and someone in a lorry blew a red, hit us on the driver’s side. I barely remember what happened after that, and even though the police told me she died instantly, I feel like the one thing I can remember is seeing her try to move, reaching for me even though she was practically--”

Jane wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek against his chest. She could feel the heavy, elevated beat of his heart, and then she felt his hands encircle her, one cupping her head against him.

“It’s still not your fault,” Jane insisted. She didn’t pull away or look up, just savored the feel of him so close to her. She hated to indulge those feelings she’d locked away, especially now in almost the exact same circumstances she’d fucked up before, but she loved the feeling of having him in her arms. The feeling of comforting him when no one else could. “She was a mother. She was worried about you. It didn’t matter who you called that night, she would’ve come to find you. You didn’t ask for the truck to hit you. It’s a hell of a set of circumstances, but for the love of god, it’s not your fault.”

It was a few heavy moments of silence later when he answered, “I’m glad you think so.”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one.”

(When they eventually pulled away, Thor had this expression on his face when he looked at her, and she just--)

(She had to leave.)

(The X-Files Marathon was over, anyway, there was no reason for her to stay.)

(She said goodbye, and tried to ignore the pang from the look of loneliness in his eyes that she knew she wasn’t supposed to see.)

* * *

 

 

Their moment had finally arrived.

In the early morning hours of December twenty-third, Jane and Thor were driven to the airport by an irate Sif. She was not a morning person in the least, and guzzled coffee the entire way there while telling the fake couple about the latest shenanigans her girlfriend Amora had pulled.

When she finally dropped them at check-in, they gave her a Christmas present to thank her for her service. (A framed picture of Serena Williams, Sif’s favorite athlete, and two tickets to the next season opener for the Phoenix Mercury, her favorite WNBA team.)

(Sif would love it.)

(The implications of the gift being from both of them hadn’t seemed to hit them yet.)

Jane remembered the last time she’d gone through security at the airport with Thor’s snarky text messages to keep her company. Now she had the actual man himself, who was always annoyingly perky at this hour.

They arrived at their gate with plenty of time to spare.

“So is your whole family going to be there?”

“Dear god, no. I have six aunts and five uncles, just on my mom’s side. Our house isn’t big enough for that. Let’s see… From Mom’s side… Grandma Anat, who flies in from Israel even though she doesn’t celebrate Christmas, god bless her. The Rogers family, consisting of Aunt Stefania and Uncle Horace, plus Steve and his wife, Peggy. Then I’m pretty sure… shit I keep losing track.” She starts counting on her fingers. “Aunt Rose, her daughter Kelly. Uncle Jim and his husband Terry, their daughter Amanda. Aunt Hannah, too, I think, if she stops her cross-country tour in her VW van to visit us. I think that’s everyone from her side. Dad’s side isn’t as big, just my Grandma and Grandpa, Louise and Elroy, and Dad’s sister Alona. They’re a pretty quiet bunch. Trust me, it’s going to be my mom’s side that we have to worry about.” She wasn’t going to name names because Thor had already heard quite a bit about Stefania. “I’ll try to keep us around Peggy and Steve as buffers.”

Thor laughed. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to remember all these names.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Are you kidding me, you’re the best at names. I remember that time that Sif was sick and you had to take over her spinning class and you knew every single person’s name by the end of a half an hour class.”

“You never let me forget the time I taught a spinning class.”

“Mostly because of the name thing, I swear. There were twenty-five people in the class, Thor. But also it was pretty funny watching all the forty- and fifty-somethings try to hit on you afterwards.”

Plus, she wouldn’t mind seeing Thor in compression shorts again, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

“You said your Grandma Anat was from Israel?” he asked, and Jane gave him a pointed look. He would have no trouble remembering names.

“Yeah. She’s Jewish and I don’t think she ever got over my mom not raising me Jewish, but we weren’t really devout Catholics either. She loves us anyway. Didn’t even tell me that Santa wasn’t real until I figured it out myself.”

“Real MVP.”

“No kidding. My mom converted to Catholicism after she met my dad. Most of my relatives are Jewish, but they come celebrate Christmas with us anyway. Which reminds me, don’t mention religion. Like, ever. We don’t exactly fight or anything, but I think my stubborn, argumentative nature is genetic.”

“Understood.”

“So how did we meet?”

“What?”

“Our cover story. How we met, then fell in love. Whatever.”

“Well, I’ve always learned that the best lies are crafted from some version of the truth. So I say we keep the story where I discovered you stranded in the middle of a snowy parking lot flailing about like Violet Beauregard from Willy Wonka.”

Jane moaned and buried her face in her hands. “Do we have to? Can’t it be some sort of meet cute where it’s actually _cute_?”

Thor laughed, “No. It’s cute because it was real. We start making up picture-perfect stories, then where will we be?”

She peeked at him through parted fingers. “Need I remind you our entire romance isn’t real?”

He smiled softly. “No, but as I said, including shades of the truth will only make the lie more believable.”

“Ugh, fine. But if I’m Violet Beauregard, that means you’re Augustus Gloop.”

* * *

Considering her family had to ferry around various family members, Jane and Thor were left to their own devices with a rental car. It was a bit of an uncomfortable situation for Thor, having to get his enormous frame out of his cramped airplane seat, only to have to fold himself up to fit into their car for another 2 hours while Jane drove them to her family’s home.

“C’mon, Sasquatch,” Jane called as he shut the trunk and walked over to the passenger side.

As Thor lowered himself in, he said, “I’m not actually overtly tall, you know. Maybe you’re just too short.”

“I’m average, thank you very much.”

When they finally pulled into the driveway, her mother was naturally coming out of the house to greet them. The snow in Iowa was generally much more overwhelming than in New Mexico, but this year only a barely-there ten inches had accumulated. Still, in her house shoes and small cardigan, Mrs. Foster made quite the picture. She’d probably been watching for them from the kitchen window. “Jane’s here!” she called back into the house, and suddenly Mrs. Foster was leading the pack of rabid relatives.

Jane gave Thor a look. _Ready?_

He smiled, and cocked his eyebrow.

 _Cocky son of a bitch_ , she thought fondly.

“Hi Mom,” Jane greeted, and she was immediately pulled into a firm hug.

“And you must be Thor,” her mom said upon pulling away.

Thor stuck out his hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs. Foster.”

“Oh, honey, you can call me Gail,” she said, ignoring his hand and hugged Thor as well. Gail was even shorter than her daughter, so it was a bit of a comical sight.

“You can call me Mr. Foster.”

“Dad,” Jane gritted.

Thor eventually was released from her mother’s deadly clutches, and he offered his hand to Erik Foster. “Good to meet you, sir.” Sir? _Sir_. Oh god, he was busting out all the stops.

They seemed to be working. Erik looked impressed, and the rest of the Foster clan waiting eagerly on the front steps.

“Guys, can we maybe get inside first before you start hounding us?”

Gail’s eyes widened, ever the gracious hostess. “Of course!” She turned and flapped her hands at the others, “They’ll be inside! We don’t want them to freeze! Come on inside,” she encouraged, guiding Jane towards the door.

“I can get our bags,” Thor offered, already headed for the trunk.

“I’ll help you,” Erik said, even though he definitely knew they’d only packed for a three day stay. Jane rolled her eyes.

As she went inside, she heard her father begin, “So, Thor--”

* * *

Once they were inside, Gail insisted Erik take their bags up to Jane’s room. “You’ll both be staying in Jane’s old room.”

“Really?” Jane sputtered. She’d assured Thor that they wouldn’t have to share a bed. She’d just figured because her parents were rather old-fashioned.

“You’re not a kid anymore, we thought it would be ridiculous.”

“Correction, your mother thought it would be ridiculous.”

Gail smacked Erik’s shoulder lightly, “You. Bags. Now, please. Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you too, dear,” he answered as he ascended the stairs.

Thor was hit in quick succession with the family they’d be celebrating with. The clamorous ones came first. Aunt Stefania was on surprisingly good behavior, and Uncle Horace was his usual gruff self, but it definitely seemed like he was taking pains to be pleasant. Jane wondered if Steve had told them to be extra nice to Jane’s boyfriend.

Grandma Anat was next, and even though her entire torso seemed to be the size of one of Thor’s arms, she still managed to vigorously shake his hand and declare her outright approval. Aunt Rose was the picture of politeness, but meanwhile her daughter Kelly couldn’t stop blushing and shuffling her feet.

Terry and Jim seemed to be under the impression that Jane and Thor were engaged and asked to see the rock until Jane quickly, awkwardly corrected them. (“Um, no. No we’re not--not getting married. Not engaged. Just dating. Just my boyfriend.” “You’re telling me that nifty-swifty wedding I planned after nearly three months of dating was all for naught?” Thor joked, saving her from further embarrassment.) Their daughter Amanda had much the same reaction that Kelly did, and after she received her Thor-Hug™ she scooted over to the fireplace where Kelly was obviously eagerly awaiting her for gossiping and fawning.

Her dad’s side, much less insistent and outgoing than her mom’s, had drifted to the back of the pack and were introduced last. The Norwegian clan was decidedly delighted at Thor’s name, and much to Jane’s surprise, Thor spoke relatively fluent Norwegian. He’d officially won all of them over, Louise and Elroy excitedly asking him where his family was from (somewhere called Sør-Trøndelag), and Alona asking how many of them were still there (most of his immediate family was gone now, but his father was the only one of his family who’d moved out of the country.)

She introduced him to Steve and Peggy last by design, and true to Jane’s hopeful prediction, Thor and Steve got on like a house on fire, and Peggy seemed delighted to have another Brit in the house.

She doesn’t know exactly what she expected from this plan. For some reason, she didn’t think it’d be this easy. To pretend like this, with the casual hand holding and everyone in the family seeming to accept it, even celebrate it.

(True to his prediction, they all adored him.)

(Smug bastard.)

She thought that if she had to fight for them to accept it, it might be easier somehow. Easier to distance herself from the fact that this is a lie. That Thor’s hand in hers won’t ever happen again outside this weekend.

Sure, they could still be friends, but… but there wouldn’t be… It would be different. They wouldn’t have to keep up appearances that they were together.

That broke Jane’s heart.

(Those feelings knocked on that door inside of her.)

(She kept telling herself that she’d thrown away the key, but she knows she’s just holding it tighter.)

* * *

As evening wore into nighttime, Jane, Thor, Steve, and Peggy found themselves in the same room where Steve had confronted Jane about the mysterious man in her life at Thanksgiving. Except this time, they sat in a circle playing card games and nursing beers.

After everyone started to peel off for the night, they switched from Crazy Eights to Bullshit. “Two jacks,” Peggy said, laying down two cards.

“Bullshit,” Thor declared to Peggy’s affronted look.

She took the whole stack, adding them to her sizeable hand. “You’re a traitor to the throne.”

“I’ve been called that before,” Thor said, winking at Jane.

Jane was halfway through her second beer, feeling slightly tipsy and realized how much fun this was. They made their way around the circle until they came to Jane, whose meager offerings of two sevens, one nine, and one queen, did not a useful hand make. “One ace,” she said before taking another swig of her beer and trying her damnest to look nonchalant about it.

“Bull. Shit. Jane Foster,” said Steve from across the circle.

Thor’s response was to laugh, and she glared daggers in their directions as she swept the large pile of cards into her hands. Damn it, she’d been so close. “You’re a terrible liar,” Thor informed her.

Steve added, “Especially when you’re tipsy, you lightweight.”

After she finished off her seconds beer she switched to water. She wasn’t planning on getting wasted while she was here, definitely not while her self-control around her fake boyfriend was dangling by a thread.

They all ended up winning one game apeice, the tie-breaker round going to Peggy who could “bluff her way into the Armenian embassy without batting an eye, I’ve seen it.” That anecdote came from Steve, who refused to elaborate.

They left their bottles in the recycling, and began to head upstairs.

“Just so you kids know,” Steve said, “we share a wall. So keep it down.”

Jane snorted. “Right back at you, Steve.” Once Steve and Peggy disappeared into their room for the night, though, she felt the blush exploding on her cheeks. That response was definitely Tipsy Jane speaking.

Now that they were alone, their door closed firmly behind them, the facade came crashing down.

Jane’s bed was queen-sized, so it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t both fit, but there definitely wouldn’t be enough room to construct some sort of Great Wall of Pillows so that she wouldn’t accidentally spoon him in the middle of the night.

“I don’t mind taking the floor,” Thor confided quietly.

“I’m so sorry, I’d kind of just assumed they’d make you take the couch or one of the guest rooms--”

“Truly, it is fine, Jane. I’ve had far worse sleeping arrangements than this one.”

“No, you’re the guest. You should take the bed.”

“You’ve opened your home to me, and you didn’t have to. You should take the bed.”

“I asked you to come with me. You’re doing me a favor.”

“And you’re doing me the courtesy of allowing me to spend this holiday in good company.”

“I’m taking the floor.”

“No, _I’m_ taking the floor.”

Jane lunged for her pillow and a blanket just as Thor did the same thing. She tore her quilt off the bed, whacking Thor with her pillow to delay him. She managed to get them down and herself under the blanket at the foot of the bed before Thor achieved the same feat on the bed’s left hand side.

“I told you,” Jane insisted, “I’m taking the floor.”

“Since you resorted to violence to take your place, I must insist that you’re disqualified from the floor.”

“Disqualified?”

“Yes. Violence is cheating.”

“I barely even touched you.”

“Were I a less formidable opponent, I assure you I would be in tears right now. You pillow fight just as well as you punch.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was a few moments later that Jane realized that neither of them had prepared for bed. She still was wearing jeans and socks, as well as the gross travel-feeling that only went away once you took a long hot shower. She didn’t even brush her teeth.

“We didn’t get ready for bed,” Thor said out loud.

“No, we didn’t.”

There was an adjoining bathroom to Jane’s room (perks of growing up an only child), so at least they had that. It would certainly make changing logistics much easier.

“I call first,” she said, hopping out of her makeshift bed and making her way to where her bag was placed on the dresser. “And when I return,” she said, taking her pjs and toiletries, “all of this,” she gestured to him, “better be in this,” she pointed to the bed. Not waiting for his response, she headed to the bathroom.

She didn’t take long to shower, just washing her body and putting her hair up into a bun to keep it dry. She had her teeth brushed and face moisturized in a matter of a few minutes.

When she came back out, her pillow and quilt were back up on the bed.

“You did this? When I specifically asked you not to?”

“I hope that was an incomplete Office quote.”

“It was.”

Thor’s head popped up over the side of the bed. “All right. Now when I return all of this,” he copied her gesture and then indicated the bed, “better be in this.”

She didn’t listen. Obviously.

She was setting herself back up on the floor, trying to spread herself out in such a way that he would be unable to get back to his side of the room when she heard the shower turn on.

_Thor was naked in her shower._

“Fuck,” she whispered quietly, burying her face in her pillow. Why was her genius brain constantly letting her down when it came to anticipating very basic things that she should be expecting from him? While there were certainly those pesky feelings still rattling away at that door inside her, there was definitely a bit more of something else inside her at the moment too. Or rather, her body definitely _wanted_ something else inside her. She wrapped her pillow around her head, trying to not pay attention to the sound of the water, the way she could imagine it sluicing off his skin, running down his shoulder blades down to that magnificent ass--

Fuck, what was she thinking? This was her friend. Even if he wasn’t her friend, even if he was some random ass stranger who agreed to be her fake date it wouldn’t be right to think about him like this. She tried to keep her brain from wandering to their kiss--that one spectacular kiss that they’d shared that had fueled many of Jane’s most frustrating dreams.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have the time nor the lack of scruples necessary to get herself off before Thor would be back out here.

She’d just have to suck it up.

_Oh, fuck, don’t think about sucking in any capacity._

He was back out in just over ten sexually-frustrating minutes. Jane knew she would have to rein herself in. She wasn’t a damn teenager anymore. She could control her hormones for the next few days.

“You’re not in the bed.”

“At least I didn’t move your stuff.”

As he made his way back over to his side and laid down, he said, “I have a proposal.”

“If it has anything to do with you staying on the floor while I take the bed, you can forget it, buddy.”

“Not entirely. I’d merely like to suggest that if we’re both to remain stubborn jackasses, we’ll be sharing the floor. However, if we are both willing, I wouldn’t be averse to us sharing the bed.”

She flipped onto her belly so she could look at him properly. “Are you sure? That wasn’t--it was just never really a part of our agreement.”

“I don’t mind. I’d rather sleep on the bed than the floor, honestly. I may be young yet, but my back sure isn’t.”

“Me too. I wanna sleep in the bed too.”

“Okay then.”

Thor stood, throwing his stolen bed linens back where they came from and Jane followed suit. “Do you, er--” he shuffled a bit on his feet, not meeting her gaze. “Do you have a side you prefer?”

“The right,” she answered.

“That’s a happy coincidence,” he said quietly as he crawled under the sheets on the left side of the bed.

She copied his actions on her side of the bed, finally realizing how tired she was. The timezone difference wasn’t big, but it was significant enough that her eyelids were drooping as soon as she settled in.

She didn’t have the energy to hold herself as still as possible away from Thor. The bed was a decent enough size that she could relax and not touch him. “Night,” she murmured quietly.

“Goodnight, Jane,” was the last thing she heard.

* * *

It really wasn’t hard to fall into a “relationship” with him. It was easy to kiss his cheek when he came into the kitchen in the morning, easy to take his hand when they went with Steve and Peggy to the public park for the annual Chainsaw Speed Ice Carving competition. Afterwards, they had plans to meet up with a bunch of their old friends at one of the pubs lining Main Street.

She could tell that her cousin and in-law were impressed with Thor--unsurprising to Jane, really. He was a consummate gentleman and wonderful company. She’d known this for a while.

Even through their layers of clothing, he radiated warmth from beside her, and when she looked up at his face, he was alight, his eyes following the chainsaw-wielding artists as his breath fogged the air. He loved the competition, and he leaned down to her ear, whispering to make bets with her on whose sculpture would win. Loser would buy the first round at the pub. (Jane had the advantage of knowing the regulars. Only a fool would bet against Mrs. Henderson, and she told him so. Thor only raised a brow and bet on Ms. Matthews, whose sculpture of a bear was starting to take shape.) It was more than fun, it--

It was just nice.

After the winner was announced (Mrs. Henderson did not fuck around with this competition, and her ice-rendering of a bald eagle astounded the gathering) and their little group headed for the pub. In a small town such as this one, the bartender was often the owner, and the owner of Lucky’s knew them quite well. The place wouldn’t be open for long past four that afternoon, but it still gave them plenty of time to socialize.

And Thor fit in well. He seemed to be one of those people who could dive headfirst into any social situation and be the life of the party by the end of the hour. She almost envied his ability to do that, but now all she felt was this weird kind of pride. Her friends would’ve never envisioned her with this guy, but here they were. (Nearly all of them had given her discreet thumbs up at some point to express their approval.)

By the time four drew around, Jane found herself reluctant to leave. She hadn’t had fun with these people since high school, and today had reminded her exactly why they’d been friends in the first place.

It was only when they started to do the glass clink, wolf whistling at Steve and Peggy until they gave in and kissed that Jane realized one very crucial fact that she’d conveniently managed to push aside.

This wasn’t real.

So when her friends turned on her and Thor, instead of pride or envy or the happiness she’d just been feeling until a second ago, it was something else. She could barely bring herself to meet his eye, but when she did, he was still wearing that same contented expression. He leaned down, and she figured he was going to kiss her, until he murmured quietly in her ear, “We don’t have to.”

The door with her feelings rattled again, but she tried to ignore it. It wouldn’t hurt to--he seemed to want to.

So she leaned in, taking him by surprise, and kissed the living daylights out of him.

Her friends were, needless to say, delighted.

“We could never get her to do that when we were younger!”

When she pulled back, the wrecked look on his face startled her. You didn’t look at a friend that way, did you?

“Hey, Bedroom-Eyes,” called Peggy, breaking Jane and Thor out of their reverie. “I think we need to get a move on if we want to make it to dinner.”

So they said goodbye, exchanged hugs, promised to do this again soon.

As they walked out hand in hand, and Jane leaned herself on Thor’s shoulder, she realized she’d unlocked the damn door. In that moment, as Thor pulled her closer and gave her that smile, she couldn’t care less.

* * *

When they got back, there were still a couple hours yet before dinner would be ready. She found Thor in their room, already dressed for dinner. His hair was tamed into a ponytail, and his black slacks and blue dress shirt fit him to a tee. She wanted to tell him how handsome he looked, but the expression on his face was stormy. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands.

“Thor?”

“This break-up that you have planned…” he asked, and she felt her heart plummet. “I break your heart. That was what we talked about when we first… first started this whole thing.”

He looked up at her, and she realized he was waiting for an answer. She nodded slightly, and he looked back down.

“They--your family. They’re supposed to hate me, right?”

(God, he sounded so lost, so small, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and--)

(He was getting so close to Steve. Had shared moments with nearly her whole family. They adored him, she knew that, but they _loved_ her.)

(They _would_ hate him.)

“I won’t let them,” she answered fiercely. She didn’t know how, but she wouldn’t let them.

He nodded, but she knew it wasn’t at all solved. “They love you very much.” He paused. “You’re very lucky to have them.” His voice shook ever so slightly, and she knew that tone, was tempted to take him in her arms again, but that wouldn’t help.

“I know.”

He stood suddenly, grabbing his jacket. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Thor--”

“I’ll be back in time for dinner,” he assured her. He leaned in like he was about to kiss her, seemed to think better of it, then left.

There were tears welling in her eyes against her will, and why was she doing this to herself, to _him_ \--

She went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, then headed downstairs to the kitchen where her mother, Uncle Terry, Aunt Rose, and Aunt Alona all bustled about preparing the meal.

“Is everything okay?” asked Aunt Rose. “We saw Thor leave a few minutes ago.”

The all ceased their motions, their eyes finding hers. “Yeah,” she assured everyone. “He just needed some air.” Not completely a lie. “This is a hard time of the year for him.”

They all nodded in understanding. She and Thor had given out very selective but truthful bits of his family history, and her relatives hadn’t pushed for more. They seemed to understand it was a sensitive topic.

“It’s a good thing he’s here, then,” Uncle Terry said.

“Yeah,” Aunt Alona added, “he can make new memories with us.” They all chorused their agreement, and Jane had to hold back her tears again.

“Yeah,” she answered instead. Her smile felt like plastic. “Anything I can do to help?”

* * *

Thor returned an hour later. His ears and cheeks were red, and she scolded him for not wearing a hat. “It’s a good thing I have you to remind me then.” His skin was cold when he came and pressed a kiss to her forehead, but Jane felt the burn of shame so much more keenly than she had before.

* * *

True to Jane’s prediction, Aunt Stefania goaded them into kissing at dinner. It was different from the one at the pub, laced with desperation, but maybe that was just Jane’s mind going into overdrive. Maybe that was just on her because this was going to be over as soon as they left tomorrow night and she couldn’t--

She didn’t want it to be over.

* * *

That night, after dinner had been eaten, everyone who was staying at the Foster household (which totaled about ten people) all gathered in the living room to watch Christmas movies. They started with the classic version of The Grinch, Die Hard because they’re _that_ family, It’s A Wonderful Life, and they wrapped up with Rudolph once everyone’s eyes were starting to feel heavy.

Jane couldn’t help but notice that Thor was wide awake for the whole thing.

(This wasn’t supposed to hurt.)

(That was the whole point.)

* * *

When they ascended the stairs for the last night, she could feel Thor radiating tension from beside her.

So when she closed the door behind them, she turned to him and said, “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“Don’t give me that, I can practically feel you wanting to say something to me. So just--out with it.”

She was afraid of his answer, afraid of what he was going to say. He wouldn’t mean to break her heart--he hadn’t asked for it in the first place. She would only be able to blame herself for forcing her heart out of her chest and placing it in the hands of this wonderful man who didn’t want it--

“I don’t want to break up when we go home.”

“What?”

“I don’t want this to be fake. I want--” He sighed, but Jane was frozen. “I want to take you on a date. A real one. Not just at our coffee shop, not just sitting on my couch watching Netflix, but a real place. With tablecloths, preferably.”

“But I thought--after that day--”

“I thought so after that day too. I didn’t think I was anywhere near relationship material for you. For god’s sake, Jane, look at you. You’re just… beautiful and smart and successful and I was--I _am_ still messed up. But all I know is that I like you. I like you far more than I should like a friend.”

“I--I like you too. I’ve liked you since you helped me up in the goddamned parking lot.”

“Me too,” he said, and then he leaned in and kissed her. For real.

No more tamping down her emotions. No more pretending.

His hand cupped her face, the other wrapping completely around her waist and towing her towards him so that their bodies were pressed tightly together. Her hands went everywhere, his hair, his waist, his arms. God, she just couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t get close enough, and her hands untucked his shirt, went under to find his warm skin--

He pulled back. “Jane,” he groaned in frustration. “I am not having sex with you in your parents’ house.”

“Why not?” she asked breathlessly, finally taking advantage of their position and moving her hands southward and taking a firm grasp of his ass. She leaned her forehead against his, gasping at the feeling of them being so close, yet so far.

He closed his eyes. “You are temptation personified, but when I have you,” he growled, eyes snapping open, “you won’t be able to stay quiet.”

God. _God_. Merry fucking Christmas to her.

He pulled back completely, and Jane whined at the loss. “And I am taking you on a real date first.”

“Technically, we’ve already been on like, a million dates.”

He rolled his eyes. “Technicalities aren’t going to change my mind.”

“Fine,” Jane grumbled playfully. “Let’s get ready for bed.”

“To sleep.”

“To sleep,” she agreed.

They do their nighttime routine (oh god, they have a routine, what even--)

And when they both climbed into bed that night, Thor inched closer to her, laying a hand on her hip, his body warm behind hers. “Is this okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Better than okay.” She nestled backwards into him, and his arm tightened around her and--

It’s even better than she’d hoped.

* * *

They woke up to loud pounding on the door. “Everyone decent in there?” It was Peggy.

“Good god, that woman is going to knock the door off it’s hinges,” Thor commented sleepily. They’d drifted apart through the night, but his arm was still across her belly, and one of her legs was thrown over his.

(Man, they were really doing themselves a disservice by trying to stay on their own side of the bed before.)

“Yeah, Peg, we’re decent,” Jane called back.

She opened the door, already wearing her cheesy Christmas sweater courtesy of Grandma Anat. It was white, there were jingle bells on the shoulders, and Peggy’s name was embroidered in green and red plaid ribbon. “You better have yours,” Peggy said to Jane, indicating her sweater that was a family tradition. She held a bundle in her hand that she threw at Thor. “And you are now officially a member of the family. Here’s your official membership sweater. Meet us downstairs,” she said before closing the door and leaving them to their devices.

Thor’s sweater was definitely going to be big enough for him, at least. It was red, with a green collar and cuffs. It had fake holly knitted into the torso, with random silver and gold buttons sewn on to make his name.

Jane rolled out of bed, retrieving hers from her bag. “Yeah, I know, they’re terrible, but it’s fun and Grandma loves doing them, so we wear them every year--Hey,” she said, noticing his face as he stared at the sweater. “You okay?”

“Better than I’ve been in ages,” he answered softly, leaning over to kiss her.

They were downstairs with the sweaters on in less than ten minutes.

(Her mom was passing out eggnog and hot chocolate, and her dad was handing out the presents, all from Santa much to everyone’s glee, and there was even one for Thor.)

(She wouldn’t forget the look on his face when Erik handed it to him, and she wouldn’t forget the way he opened it either.)

(This entire thing was worth it, she realized, even if they’d never sorted out their feelings for each other.)

(The look on his face would’ve made it worth it.)

* * *

After presents were opened, there was the family hunting trip. Most of her male relatives went, except Terry and Elroy, and Alona, Amanda, and Aunt Rose were all pretty talented bow hunters. Steve wrangled Thor into going, and Jane had never been big on it, so she merely made sure Thor was wearing his hat and told him to be careful.

He kissed her when he left, and her face hurt from smiling so much.

(They returned later that day, covered in snow and good cheer and Thor kissed her again when he got back. Thoroughly enough that Steve flicked Jane’s ear and told them to get a room.)

* * *

It was over all too soon. Their flight was leaving in a few hours, and they needed to return their rental car, check in, and prepare to return to reality.

When they’d been packing, she’d said, “I don’t want to go back. And I generally don’t say that when I have the opportunity to get out of my family’s hair.”

“Neither do I.”

“Things aren’t going to be back to normal though, right?” Jane amended, “Er, well, partly not normal. Because we can’t really deny the fact that we were definitely dating each other before we came here.”

Thor had grinned. “No, they won’t. I’m taking you out on that date.”

“I’ll be there with bells on.”

When it finally came down to leave, they were distributing hugs and her family wished them safe travels and well-wishes for the new year.

“I’m sure we’ll see you again,” Mrs. Foster told Thor when she pulled away from her hug.

“I certainly hope so,” he answered.

It was bittersweet when they pulled out of the driveway, but Jane couldn’t stop the happiness from blooming within her. She reached over and threaded her fingers with Thor’s simply because she could.

He brought their hands up to his lips, laying a kiss on her knuckles as they started for the airport.

* * *

When they got home, Sif took one look at them and said, “I fucking knew it.”

* * *

 The next year they go home for Christmas, Jane had a ring on her finger and she loved him and they were on their way to carving out their own piece of forever.

* * *

 

(The next year, they brought Loki along, and seeing his dark, brooding brother in one of Grandma Anat’s sweaters was almost as good of a Christmas present as the one she married.)


End file.
